


The Ties That Bind Us

by Winterturtle



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Crimes & Criminals, Dark Tony Stark, Eventual Fluff, Friday is good doggo, Guns, Hugs, Innocent Peter Parker, Kidnapped Peter Parker, Kidnapping, Mafia AU, Mild Blood, Minor Character Death, Mob Boss Tony Stark, Multi, Organized Crime, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Other characters mentioned - Freeform, Panic Attacks, Past Relationship(s), Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker is Tony Stark's Biological Child, Poor Peter Parker, Precious Peter Parker, Revelations, Shameless Star Wars References, tags added as the story progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-22
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-14 07:01:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28916526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winterturtle/pseuds/Winterturtle
Summary: Peter Parker is ordinary high school student, living alone in apartment in Queens. He doesn’t see his parents very often due to their work. However, his life turns upside-down when Tony Stark, the most feared and powerful man in New York, gives an order to kidnap him to use him as  leverage against his parents to get one of his people back. Parker luck strikes in the worst possible moments, events from the past surface and secrets are revealed, changing everybody’s lives.Now Tony needs to learn how to be a dad. What will Peter do once he learns the truth of his true parentage?Updated every Friday and Tuesday.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 432
Kudos: 660





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, this story wouldn’t leave my mind until I wrote it down, so here I am. I’m really excited about this (and one certain tag I'll add later) and I hope you’ll enjoy this little story. Thank you for reading and see you next Friday.

With one last pull, the blinds closed, cutting off the sunlight from the outside, plunging the room into dimness. A pity, really. It was a nice summer day after all. Though Tony didn’t understand why the blinds were closed in the first place; the compound was practically impossible to get into. There was no way somebody would be able to sneak here, especially past Friday or Happy. And even if by some miracle someone did, the unfortunate person wouldn’t be able to leave. Not on their own… or in one piece.

Maybe Sam just liked the theatrics.

Tony sat at the head of the table, as the head of Stark family should. To his right sat Rhodey, his right hand and best friend, Clint and Natasha. To his left sat Steve, Bucky and Sam. Pepper, the face of the _official_ business, his tech company, was not present today. For this meeting, she was not needed, which she was happy about.

“Alright, let’s begin,” Tony clasped his hands together. This was one of the rare occasions he was taking the meeting seriously. Or at least was trying to. He nodded to Rhodey.

“Stane was caught by Shield,” he said, not beating around the bush. He opened his folder, pulling out various papers and photographs. He moved two of those forward for others to see. One was taken as Stane was being shoved in cuffs in the back of a car. The other one was a bit blurry, but Stane sitting behind bars was recognizable. “My sources told me he hasn’t said a word. Yet.”

“And if he knows what’s good for him, it will stay that way,” Sam supplied.

The remark went ignored. Over the years since Howard died, Tony began to distance himself from the man, bit by bit. Tony was not his father. Stane ignored that. Howard took over the little gang that was started by Tony’s grandfather and transformed it into something bigger. But Tony accomplished something both of the men could only dream about. The whole city was his. If Tony was to rule the same way his father did, they would have never got to the top.

If it wasn’t for the fact that Stane had some important intel and secrets that would get all of them in prison, Tony would’ve left him to Shield.

Two more photos were placed on the table; this time of a man and a woman. “Richard and Mary Parker. Married couple and the ones handling Stane. They’re right below Fury.”

The pictures were passed around, some members of Tony’s inner circle burning the faces into their minds.

“Stane is set to be transported to the Raft in less than three weeks, where he will be held and questioned further. Needless to say, it will be next to impossible to get him out once he’s there.” Rhodey placed plans of the high security prison next to the pictures. He was right. Even with inside help, the chance of escaping from there are slim.

“So, what’s the plan?” Natasha crossed her arms over her chest. “Do we break him out of the Shield facility before they send him away?”

“Wouldn’t that blow the cover of out moles?” Steve asked.

“Do we have something on the Parkers?” Bucky joined in.

Clint shook his head. “Everything that there is to know about them is already known. Nothing useful, really.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Come on, let the guy speak.” Truth be told, even the head of the most famous crime family himself was curious what Rhodey found out. He didn’t exactly share, but he promised whatever he found will be useful. Tony didn’t like not knowing things in his own house. This wouldn’t fly if it was anyone else.

The room fell silent, the only sound filling it was rustling of the papers. Rhodey pulled out one last photograph and placed it on top of the plans, near the pictures of the agents.

This one caught everyone’s attention. They leaned forward in to see better, confusion reflecting on their faces. It was a picture of a teenage boy with brown curly hair and brown eyes. There was a resemblance.

“Rhodey, you clever bastard,” Tony grinned as the pieces clicked together.

The right-hand man briefly returned the grin before putting on more serious face again. “It turns out there was one thing unknown about them.”

Tony could see how the pieces clicked in others’ minds too.

“This is Peter Parker. Their son.”

The statement cemented the suspicion.

“Oh, man, how did you find this?” Sam asked in awe as he grinned.

“It was by accident, actually,” Rhodey admitted. “His existence is, or was, very well hidden. They’re not in contact very often and they rarely see each other in person. Since he was little, Peter was staying with his aunt and uncle until they died in a car crash one and a half years ago. Since then, he lives alone in apartment in Queens.”

Clint’s head tilted to the side. “Hold on, by accident, you mean that someone overheard them talking about him or something?”

Rhodey inhaled and placed his hands on the table. “Basically? Yes.”

“Idiots,” Tony gave the pictures of two agents kind of disgusted look as he rolled his eyes, though he can’t complain. Their slip-up will serve Tony well.

His remark was met with series of nods.

“Apparently, they were supposed to go visit him later this week. One of our moles overheard them talking with Fury about postponing the visit because of the whole Stane situation. They didn’t seem very bothered, but that’s beside the point. The boy attends Midtown School of Science and Technology.”

School reports and other various lists were passed around. Tony had to admit, the boy was smart. All straight A’s, their Decathlon team won the nationals... Not to mention he looked naïve and innocent, exact opposite of his parents. He wondered if the teen knew what his parents were doing.

Rhodey pulled out last stacks of papers and passed it to others. “I went ahead and took a courtesy of tracking his routine. Despite being summer break, Midtown offers various courses, morning or afternoon, for its students for extra credit. The last course ends this Thursday to allow the students at least some break. Peter attends this course. There’s a maid coming to his apartment every Monday and Thursday as well to clean the place. The route he takes home is on the paper.”

“Nobody would suspect police officer to be the one to follow a kid, eh, officer Rhodes?” Sam teased from the other side.

This is why Rhodey was Tony’s right hand. To gather this amount of information in such short timespan took skill.

Natasha put down the paper with information about Peter. “We could use him as a leverage against Parkers to get Stane back.”

All eyes turned to Tony.

“So, we kidnap the kid,” Tony said matter-of-factly, “it can’t be that hard. How old is he anyway? Twelve?”

“He’ll be fifteen soon, actually,” Rhodey added.

“Never mind. Barnes, when would be the best time to retrieve the kid?” Tony turned to the man with metal arm.

“Hold on, a kid?” Steve jumped in just as Bucky opened his mouth, a rare look of discomfort on his face. “Are we really going to drag a kid into this? Isn’t that low even for us?”

Tony had to fight back a snort. Steve had no problem with beating someone to death with his own hands, yet he was uncomfortable at the involvement of the boy. The man was old-school. “Don’t worry, no harm will come to him if you do your job correctly and he behaves,” Tony said before nodding to Bucky to continue.

“Thursday after school, best in his apartment.” Bucky’s eyes roamed around the tiny picture of Peter on the paper, clearly taken by security camera, walking from school with another boy and a girl. “It’s risky to do it in public.”

“Fine by me,” Tony said without missing a beat. “You and Barton are in charge of getting the kid. Bring him to the lake house. Rogers and Romanov, you will keep an eye on him there.”

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you really going to put one of our strongest guys and best assassins to babysit some kid? I think we can just get him a juice box, lock him somewhere and he’ll be fine.”

“Wilson, did you even read what was on the paper?” Tony moved his eyes to the man. “The kid’s attending one of the best high-schools and by the looks of it, he’s passing with ease. For Christ’s sake, he’s even taking extra courses!” his arms flew up. “He’s smart. It would be best not to underestimate him.”

“Alright, jeez, don’t get your panties in a twist,” Sam grumbled under his breath.

“My underwear is worth more than your whole attire. You take two paychecks. Seriously, get some decent clothes.” Chuckles filled the room, making Sam pout at the table. “But back to the point. You two,” he pointed to Bucky and Clint, “make a plan. Get what you need and if you need anything else, let me know. And you two,” he said to Steve and Natasha, “you can go get the house ready. And Wilson, you go back undercover. I know we have moles in Shield, but I prefer to have extra pair of eyes I trust out there.”

Tony took ahold of Peter’s picture, studying the boy’s face. This will be interesting. “I believe three days is enough for all of you to prepare. Dismissed.”

The people rose from their chairs and put away the papers they received. Rhodey reached for the scattered papers to put them back in the folder. Before he could take the two remaining photos away, Tony took the one of the woman and held it next to the boy’s.

Strange. Something about the woman seemed familiar. It wasn’t like Tony didn’t know her face or who she was. But now, looking closer… His eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to intimidate the picture into giving him the answer. He gave up not too long after. Maybe she just resembled someone from his wild years, before he settled down with Pepper. Yes, he’d met plenty of women before. That must be it.

Tony took one last glance at Peter’s face, then put down the photos and stretched his limbs with low groan.

“You’ll ruin you suit,” Rhodey joked.

The joke was met with eye-roll. “Honeybear, I paid hefty sum for this suit. I would be very disappointed if the quality was something less than top-notch. And I would have the tailor’s head.”

Rhodey laughed. “I wouldn’t expect any less. Do you want to get some coffee? I’ve got some other things that could be of interest.”

Ah, coffee, Tony’s weakness. Rhodey knew he would never decline that offer. And something of interest? Even better! “Sure,” he said before irritation took control of his face. The room was still dim. “And somebody open the damn blinds!” he called out after the retreating group.


	2. Chapter 2

“Ah, freedom,” Ned sighed upon exiting the school building. It was five in the afternoon, the sun not beating down on the city without a mercy as much as before. The heat didn’t stop the boy from expressing happiness. “Now we have the rest of the summer to enjoy.”

“Yeah,” Peter nodded, playing with the strap of his backpack over his shoulder. “But these extra credits were worth it.”

“Whatever. Well, I’ve got a plane to catch. See you, losers.”

“Bye, MJ,” the boys said in union as MJ got in the car in the parking lot. They watched the car start, taking their friend to the airport.

Peter winced as he put on the other strap. And when he thought he was having good week… Flash decided to be a jerk again, shoving Peter roughly against the edge of the lockers. Pain shot from Peter’s shoulder at any bigger movement. The reaction didn’t go unnoticed.

Worry pulled at Ned’s face. “Dude, you should tell someone about this. He can’t keep getting away with it.”

There was a police car parked at the side of the street, the officer inside on the phone.

“Ned, you know I can’t do that. What if he’s going to pick on someone else? Someone that won’t be able to handle it?” When Ned gave his best friend an unimpressed look, Peter began to ramble again. “Look, it’s not that big of the deal. Once I’m home, I’m going to put some ice on it. Seriously, it doesn’t even hurt that much anymore.”

“Uh-huh.”

The officer watched the boys walk past the car and went down the stairs to the subway station that will be taking them to Queens. “He entered the station,” he said to the radio.

“Good. Pull back, let the others handle the rest,” came a reply.

The train came to a stop, two tides of people clashing as they traveled to their destinations. This train wasn’t as full as the earlier ones, but there were still plenty of people. The boys found empty seats and began to chat again.

“Man, it’s going to be lonely without you and MJ,” Peter complained. Ned was leaving tomorrow with his family for a vacation in Florida. MJ was flying to California for some activist meeting. “When are you leaving tomorrow?”

“Five in the morning,” Ned whined. “I’ll have to go to sleep early, but I doubt I will be able to fall asleep. What I’m sorry the most about is I’ll miss your birthday. We’ll have to do a Star Wars marathon once we’re back.”

Peter hid the sadness at the thought. With having the whole apartment for themselves, the sleepovers were the best. No one told them what to do, they had no curfew, and they could eat all the unhealthy food they wanted.

“It’s no big deal,” Peter said instead. “Besides, my parents will come home, so I won’t be all alone. And there’s also Mrs. Davis.”

“How long will they be staying?” Ned asked.

“I don’t know. But they will arrive on Sunday.”

The almost one-hour ride went by fast as the two constantly talked. Ned’s stop came first, interrupting the boy from explaining some movie theory to Peter. “That’s my stop. Well, see you at the end of the holiday.”

In split second, Peter made his decision. “Wait,” he said and got up as well, “I’ll go with you.”

“Are you sure? Do you want to walk another forty minutes to your home when you can be there in ten?” Ned asked as they walked on the platform.

“Yeah. Besides, I don’t have much of a choice now,” Peter shrugged, pointing to the now-closed door. The train moved once again, disappearing into the dark tunnel.

“He got off a stop early. There will be a delay. Be prepared,” a dark-skinned man with sunglasses on the train mumbled, seemingly to himself.

The boys arrived in front of Ned’s apartment building, but they had yet to part their ways. Both of them stood in front of the entrance, deep in the conversation. The current topic of conversation was too interesting to stop.

Ned’s phone buzzed and he fished it out of his pocket. His eyes widened when they landed on the time and the text message from his mom.

“Dude, we literally lost track of time. My mom’s wondering where I am. We still have to pack some things.”

“Really?” Peter asked in disbelief. The time sure flies when you have a good time. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you late.”

“Nah, it’s not a big deal.” The two boys did they complicated handshake, then Ned was backing towards the entrance door. “Next time we will be able to do this will be in a few weeks.”

“Enjoy the beach,” Peter waved his goodbye.

“Enjoy the visit,” Ned waved back and disappeared into the building.

Peter stared at the entrance for a few seconds before heading to his own home. He purposefully took longer route, not in a hurry at all. Why would anyone hurry to an empty apartment? If he at least had a pet, that would be different thing.

As he walked, the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach that had plagued him for a whole week began to return. He and Ned called it his sixth sense, MJ sometimes called it sparkling anxiety. Whatever the name for it was, it was rarely wrong. Something is about to happen.

He stopped by at Delmar’s, grabbing himself something for dinner. It was a little after eight when Peter’s keys opened the door, the sight of familiar spacious interior greeting him. He missed the old, tiny apartment where he grew up with Ben and May. It was by no means messy, it was lived in. But this one was too empty. The faint smell of cleaning products hung in the air, a proof of Mrs. Davis’ visit. Peter closed the door behind him, unaware of two people hiding in the supply closet, watching his every movement through narrow slits.

Peter dumped his things on the kitchen chair, wincing and hissing as he removed the strap from his injured shoulder. “Damn you, Flash,” he muttered. Well, at least it didn’t hurt as much as before. “Hm?” two things caught his attention. There was a note stuck to the fridge and the answering machine was blinking. He went for the note first.

“Peter, my daughter had an accident today and I’m going to stay with her until her husband returns from work trip. I’ll be back in a week, two at most. I got enough food to last you that long, but you’ll probably have to get some perishable food later yourself. I left a piece of cake for you in the fridge.

-Mrs. Davis”

Peter opened the fridge, and truth to Mrs. Davis’ words, there was a piece of deliciously looking cake sitting on a plate, waiting for him. Cheering, he took the cake out and put it on the table. He debated whether he should eat the sandwich or the cake first as he made his way to the answering machine. 

“Hello, Peter,” his mom’s voice filled the room, getting the attention of the two uninvited guests as well. “I’m sorry to tell you, but our leave got moved. There was an… unforeseen development here and we’re needed.”

Peter’s heart sank. Was this what his sixth sense was trying to tell him? “I’m sorry. We’ll make it up to you once it’s over, I promise,” his mom said, but Peter knew she wasn’t really sorry. He would have heard it in her voice.

“Of course,” he grumbled, hiding his hurt feelings behind indifference, “what else was to be expected? There’s always something.” Parker luck at its finest.

He looked at the cake, all his appetite leaving him. Sighing, he took the sandwich out of his bag and put in inside the fridge, along with the cake.

He went to his room to get some clean clothes and headed to the shower. Once the sound of running water could be heard, Clint spoke.

“He didn’t eat the cake.”

“Don’t worry, we still have plan B. We just have to wait a little,” Bucky replied.

“Yeah, I know. But it would be easier if he just ate it.”

The cake was a perfect opportunity. The maid left it there for the boy, so Clint took the chance and added a little bit of sedatives there, sure of the fact that Peter would eat it. Who could resist a cake like that? He put some of it in other things as well, just in case. Turns out it was all for nothing. The voicemail ruined that plan.

They were lucky the closet was big enough to hide both of them comfortably there. He didn’t know which rooms the teen would enter, but he was certain he wouldn’t look here, since there was no need to clean anything else.

The water stopped and soon after, Peter left the bathroom, changed into clean clothes and hair damp. He sighed in relief the cold shower brought to his aching shoulder. There would be no need to take something for the pain, which he was glad for.

The sun already set, the sky a shade different over the horizon. Peter watched as the last, dim light got swallowed by darkness, his mind turning over the fact that he will be alone for the rest of the summer.

His phone rang, displaying Ned’s face twisted in a grimace on the screen. “Hey, man,” Peter answered, hoping that he sounded natural. “Packed already?”

“Yeah. Just wanted to check on you before I go to bed. How’s your shoulder?”

A smile pulled at Peter’s lips involuntarily. He had such good friends. “It feels better. I took cold shower, which helped. It won’t hurt as long as I won’t put pressure on it.”

“That’s good. I won’t call you in the morning since I don’t want to wake you up, and there’s no phone rule for this vacation. Something about family bonding.”

Peter’s mood fell a little again. “Tough luck.”

Ned hummed. A distant voice could be heard, but the words were unrecognizable. “Mom says lights out. I’m gonna go.”

“It’s okay. I’m going to bed early too. Watch out for the gators.”

“Bye.”

The call ended. Since Peter had nothing left to do and he was not in the mood to watch some random YouTube videos or tinker with old electronics and spare parts that were stored in a box next to his table. He crawled in the bed. Surprisingly, it didn’t take him too long to fall asleep.

He wasn’t sure how much time has passed, but something made him wake up. He opened his bleary eyes, not seeing anything in the darkness, but he swore he could hear quiet hissing. Rubbing his eyes, he switched on the lamp on his bedside table. There was greenish mist hanging in the air. A rolling can stopped and released more of it.

Peter’s stomach clenched when he realized the mist was all around him and that he’s inhaling it. He threw his blanket off in haste and shot to his feet, only for them to tangle in the blanket and give under him at the same time.

The wind was knocked out of his lungs, the organ instinctively sucking the air back in. If only his head didn’t land near the second can still releasing the gas.

He tried to get up, but his limbs refused to listen. Instead, they moved with difficulty that definitely wasn’t normal, even in his sleepy state. His brain was becoming fuzzy too. Vaguely, Peter was aware of his door being fully opened and two pairs of footsteps coming closer.

A pair of hands gently turned Peter on his back. He was met with the sight of a man in a mask, the second man with matching one hovering in the doorway.

Something similar to oxygen mask was pressed over his mouth and nose. Whatever was in there, it was making the fuzziness worse. Peter put all his remaining strength into moving his hands to pry the mask off. To his distress, all he was able to do was to weakly grip the man’s hands.

“Shh,” the man said, “it’s okay. Don’t fight it. Go to sleep.”

If the words were meant to be comforting, it accomplished exact opposite. Fear spiked inside of Peter’s body, making his heart beat faster, and in the process, breathing faster. It was quickly replaced by sleepiness. Peter’s grip slipped from the man’s hands, rapidly losing the battle for his consciousness.

The man’s unmoving mask was the last thing he saw before his eyelids slid shut and everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, two things:  
> First, I decided to post on every other Tuesday too. I’m on that creative high with this story and I’ve pre-written enough material to last me for several weeks. Maybe I’ll change it to every Tuesday if I manage to keep up the rate I write right now, but I’ll see. (What are you gonna do, stop me?)  
> Second, I changed Peter’s age (from fifteen to fourteen) for, *ahem*, later plot reasons. That’s all. Thank you for all the wonderful support the first chapter received. See you on Tuesday!


	3. Chapter 3

For good measure, Clint held the mask over the unconscious boy’s face for another good minute. In that time, Bucky opened the window to let the gas out and gathered the empty cans to hide the evidence.

Clint’s eyes landed on the blanket tangling the teen’s feet. He strapped the mask on Peter’s face and went to untangle the thing. Luck was on their side. If the boy’s feet didn’t catch in it, he would’ve run out of the room and there would be more struggle. Clint wrapped the limp body into the blanket.

“Let’s go,” Bucky said, holding out a backpack to Clint. The backpack was in Peter’s closet, always ready to leave to last-minute sleepovers at Ned’s place.

Clint swung the backpack over his shoulder. Bucky bent down, placing his arms under Peter’s back and knees, lifting him with ease. “Hm?”

“What?” Clint asked.

“He’s lighter than expected,” Bucky replied. It was true. Wrapped like a burrito, Peter looked even smaller than he normally seemed. Bucky shifted him in his arms, so the curly head would rest against his shoulder. He gave Clint unimpressed look when the man approached to make sure the mask didn’t slip. “Hasn’t he had enough?”

“There’s not much left in it anyway. It’s just extra safety measure. And the others won’t have to deal with him for a little longer,” Clint explained. On one side, it was true. On the other hand, he would also spare the boy of several hours of sure fear and confusion. Small mercy.

Bucky wasn’t the one for arguments. He preferred to get the job done, and as long as it was safe, he saw no problem.

They covered the rest of their tracks as they left the apartment. Clint led the way, his gun drawn out in case some unlucky passerby would cross their way. No accidental witnesses, as per the protocol.

A car was parked in dark alley next to the building, waiting for them. Clint opened the back door and Bucky placed the boy inside. The two entered as well, the engine roared to life and the car moved on the empty road. Rhodey made sure they wouldn’t run into any trouble for the rest of their journey.

The car disappeared into the night.

Consciousness came slowly to Peter. His head was fuzzy, and the sleep was trying to pull him back under. His body refused to move. After a moment, the sleepiness won in its endeavor to keep ahold of him.

The second time Peter began to wake up, he was made aware one thing. He felt _parched_ , not to mention the headache that grew stronger by seconds _._ Taking a deep inhale, then exhale, he managed to get one of his eyes open by a fraction. Everything was blurry. Closing the eye, Peter turned on his right side and brought his hands fisted into his blanket to his face.

If his mouth didn’t feel like a desert, he would try to go back to sleep. He was still so tired, and the bed felt so… different? What?

Peter rubbed his eyes to get rid of the blurriness. After several unsuccessful attempts, it finally went away, although he still had difficulty to open them fully. Why does he feel like something is missing from his memory?

The first thing he noticed was the window. This one was in the middle of the wall opposite of his bed. In his room, his bed was next to the window. Did he fell asleep in different room or did he sleepwalk? But then again, the only room with bed was his parents’ unused one.

No, not his parents’ bed, he thought when he moved his leg backwards and hit the wall. His sixth sense clawed at his stomach again. Or was it the nausea caused by sitting up too quickly. Somewhere in between?

What was wrong with him? He doesn’t remember the last time he woke up feeling like this. Did he get somehow sick? Peter squeezed his eyes shut with a groan, opening them once the worst of the nausea passed, looked around and froze.

This wasn’t his room, nor any room in his apartment. Sure, the blanket was his, but _this wasn’t his room!_

Ever so slowly, Peter swung his legs over the edge of the bed, each of his move careful to not set off the nausea again. He stumbled here and there when his legs threatened to give under him, but he managed to walk to the window without doing so.

There was a jungle outside. Not like the city jungle he was used to see for his whole life. This was a literal jungle! Or… forest. This was wrong. He’s not supposed to be here. Where even _was_ here?!

The sun shone over the tall trees, casting shadows and light reflecting on the lake’s surface. Peter could tell it was well into afternoon, but there were definitely at least five hours until it was dark.

Dark…

The memories crashed into him like a train – he was at home, watching as it got dark, Ned called, and he went to bed. Then there was hissing, greenish mist and two men. One of them pressed something over his face, then there was fear, then nothing.

Next beat of his heart was painful. He needs to get out. He needs to run.

Peter spun around, wild eyes searching for the door, not hesitating a second to dash towards it. His body collided with something hard, loud thump filling the space. The floor. Ah, yes. He forgot about the nausea.

Panic choked him, making it difficult for Peter to catch his breath. His vision tunneled, making him feel like passing out.

Peter barely heard the sound of the door being opened. “Oh no,” came a man’s voice.

There was a fleeting, hesitant touch on his shoulders before it set with reassuring firmness, grounding Peter from spiraling further. “Come on, breathe. In, out. In, out. That’s it.”

The man kept talking to him until Peter got his breathing under control, his vision returned to normal and all what was left were slight tremors. The hands disappeared. Peter planted his hands underneath him and pushed himself up, so he wouldn’t be face to face with the floor.

Peter lifted his gaze, his brown eyes meeting the blue ones of big man looking down at him. The tremors stopped and his next breath caught in his throat. It was only a second later that Peter jumped to his feet and stumbled backwards, putting some distance between them. His back hit something, a table most likely. The tremors returned.

The man got up as well, outstretching his hand as if trying to placate wild animal. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to—” he took a step closer, which was a mistake.

“Don’t!” Peter cried out, his hand feeling the table as he took a step back.

“Alright, alright,” the man said, taking a step back too. “Just… calm down.”

“Who are you? Where am I? What do you want from me?”

“I’m Steve, you don’t need to know, and for the last one – from you? Nothing besides not causing problems.”

Steve saw the boy was scared out of his mind. Even if he wouldn’t see the look in his eyes, there was no way to not hear his shaky inhales. He could tell he was barely holding it together. It was understandable – even some of the most seasoned people from their, uhm… _business,_ were losing their composure when kidnapped. And Peter was just a boy.

“Why am I here?” Peter asked again. The answers he received didn’t answer much, making him more uneasy.

Steve debated whether to tell him. He decided against it. Maybe later. The boy looked like he was about to fall right back on the floor any second. The small wave of his body confirmed it. The remains of the sleeping gas had to still mess with Peter’s head.

“Why don’t you take a seat? You’re pale and I bet your head must hurt. Here,” Steve said, pulling out a blister pack full of round, white pills, and popped one out on the windowsill. Best not to approach the already distressed boy. “The glass is in the bathroom over there,” he pointed to the door Peter previously thought was the exit.

Only now Peter noticed another door on the other side of the room behind Steve, slightly ajar. Where Peter’s legs faced when he was on the bed. That must be the exit.

Peter’s eyes moved back to the man. “What’s that?”

“Pain medication.”

Steve walked back to the door, not breaking eye contact. “Your backpack is over there,” he pointed to the chair nearby. “I’ll be back later with some food for you.” With that, the door closed, followed by audible click of a lock.

Peter stayed in place for several moments, the tremors disappearing at last. He took a step towards the windowsill, minding his every move, as if he was walking on ice that threatened to break under him. He kept shooting glances at the locked door, half-expecting Steve or the men from before barging in. Nothing happened.

The pill sat there innocently. Instead of touching it, Peter lowered his face to its level. Steve popped right from the packing, not touching it. Was it really pain medication? Peter didn’t see what was written on the packing. What if he lied and the people who took him are trying to drug him again? Yeah, Peter’s not taking that chance. He was good with water only.

Which brought the second point. Steve said the glass is in the bathroom. Peter opened the door, revealing, surprisingly, the bathroom. There was a toilet, a shower, a sink and above it, a mirror with a shelf attached to it, two glasses and a comb sitting there. One held an unopened toothbrush and toothpaste, the other one was empty.

Just in case, Peter washed the empty cup, filled in and greedily drank the liquid. After a refill, he focused on his reflection. Wow. His face was really pale. It had almost sickly shade. His hair was sticking into every direction, like every time he woke up. Well, at least that remained normal.

Peter peeked into the cabinet under the sink. Towels, soaps, shampoos… the usual hygiene products.

Peter refilled the glass again and took it with him back to the room. Sitting down on the chair, he reached for backpack. He recognized it as the one he used to take to Ned’s. All he needed for a sleepover was here – spare clothes, a pair of sneakers because Mrs. Leeds hated seeing anyone barefoot in her apartment, that broken electric toothbrush he forgot to put in the box with other parts…

“Come on, Parker, think,” Peter said to himself, taking a deep breath to get rid of the lingering confusion. It turns out that now he will use the knowledge he’s gained from his 2AM YouTube binges about various topics. He’d never thought he would need what he learned about kidnappings, but now he was glad he watched those videos.

First – the first minutes of it were already over, so, a motive. The most common reason was money. Why would they want money from his parents? Sure, as scientists, they made enough money to live comfortably, but not like they could afford an apartment in Manhattan. Political reason? He doubts. Personal revenge? As far as he knew, he didn’t do anything to warrant a kidnapping. Maybe it had something to do with his parents and their research?

Dread filled Peter. Will they kill him?

Second – observe your surroundings, don’t fight or make things difficult for the kidnappers. Keep calm. Peter snorted. Fat chance of that.

It looks like he will have to wait for rescue. Except… his parents don’t know where he is. Neither does Ned and MJ, or Mrs. Davis. For all they know, Peter is still in his apartment. None of these people knew he was gone. Which means the help isn’t coming any time soon.

Peter took another sip. He’ll have to do this on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter, let’s go! I have tumblr now too (though it’s a side blog and I’m trying to figure out how it works). I tried to do that fancy link here, but it seems like no matter what I do, it just won’t work (I’ve tried). So, I’m just gonna copy the link here:
> 
> http://winter-turtle.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

His chance came after a few hours.

After he was done with changing, Peter scanned the area from the window. There was no way of opening it, as the handle was removed. The scenery remained the same – trees, lake and he caught a glimpse of a road. Then he pressed his ear against the door to listen to the sounds in the house. He had to strain his ears to hear anything, which meant he was probably somewhere upstairs. But sometimes he’d caught the sound of footsteps or soft clattering from the kitchen.

By the sound of it, Steve was the only one here.

If Peter’s plan will work, he’ll get out of here today. God, he hoped it will work. He just hoped he will find some town before it got dark. It was difficult to think too much as his head still hurt, and as it turned out, drinking that much water that quickly was a mistake. He felt his stomach flipping, but all he could do was to breathe through the nausea. He couldn’t afford to wait.

The backpack was left on the same spot where it was placed. It would be better if there wouldn’t be anything unnecessarily hindering his movement. And it would make it look like he was still in the room. The bathroom door was left slightly open, light switched on to make it look like he was there, which made sense. The bathroom didn’t have any window.

Now, Peter was crouched in the corner next to the door with his half-assed plan, occasionally rubbing his temples to get rid of the pain and still breathing through the nausea. The pill remained on the windowsill.

Footsteps were approaching. Peter shot to his feet, pressing himself against the wall as much as he could. He held his breath when three knocks could be heard and the lock clicked. The door opened, hiding Peter from the sight.

There was silence and Peter worried that the man saw through his plan. He didn’t want to think what would happen if he got caught.

“Peter?” Steve called out, stepping into the room.

Peter listened to the cautious steps, not moving an inch. Steve saw the light coming from the bathroom, stepping closer.

“I’ve brought you dinner.”

Peter peeked over the edge of the door, seeing Steve placing a bowl on the table, his eyes directed to the bathroom door.

“I hope you’ll like it.”

Yeah, no. Peter watched as Steve took a step towards the bathroom, seemingly concerned at the lack of response.

Steady, steady. Any time now.

“Peter? You okay?” Steve called out again, hint of worry in his voice. The lack of response was concerning. He hoped the boy didn’t pass out in there. “I’m opening the door!”

There! Peter left his hiding spot at the same time as Steve fully opened the bathroom door. It took Steve a second to process that the bathroom was empty. A bang of the other door made him turn.

“Hey, no!”

Peter’s eyes fell on the stairwell leading down. There was no time to check if the key was still in the hole and he wasn’t sure he would be able to lock it in time. the best he could do was run and not turn back. He took two stairs at the time, eyes franticly searching for the exit. By some miracle, he managed to run without losing his balance.

“Door, door, door,” Peter repeated in his mind. He heard Steve running after him.

“Nat!”

There! Peter spotted the exit when his feet left the stairs. Run, run. Almost there, freedom withing the reach… He outstretched his arm towards the handle.

Peter saw a blur of something red and black from the corner of his eye. That something collided with his body a second later, sending him sprawling on the ground with a cry. Not a second later, his wrists were pinned down and there was something digging into his back and shoulder. His injured shoulder. Peter bit back another cry of pain while he tried to shake off the person holding him down.

Steve came to a stop.

“I believe Rogers told you not to cause problems,” a woman’s voice came from above him, leveled and danger seeping into it.

Peter kept struggling, trying to at least shake the woman off of his shoulder. The woman tsked, irritated with his struggles. She kneeled on the ground next to him, removing herself from the injured spot. The relief was short-lived though. Peter was yanked up and arm was wrapped around his throat.

“Let me g—” his protests were cut off by the woman’s forearm pressing on his airway. Not enough to suffocate him, but enough to make it uncomfortable. All he could do was kick his legs and try to pull the arm away, all uselessly.

“But you know what? I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Our _colleagues_ gave you the good stuff, and I’m sure that it’s still in your system, messing with your body. Which means your head as well. I’d like to believe that you don’t know what you’re doing right now. It’s difficult to think clearly, isn’t it?”

Peter saw a lock of red hair fall next to his face. His heartbeat sped up. His struggles were proven to be fruitless. The chokehold was impossible to escape.

“Because let me tell you what would happen if you did this on purpose.”

“Nat.”

“It might not seem like it but being unrestrained here is a privilege. You might be just a child, but don’t think we won’t take measurements to keep you still.”

“Natasha.”

“First, it wouldn’t be so bad. We could handcuff you and you would be allowed to stretch your legs for a few minutes a day. And if you keep causing trouble, we will have to take more drastic measures. We’ve still got that gas. Say, you wouldn’t want that, would you?”

“Romanov, let him go. I think he gets it.”

“Do you understand?” Natasha whispered in Peter’s ear. Peter gave her weak, shaky nod, still unable to speak. Thick lump formed in his throat. The discomfort didn’t stop him from stubbornly thrashing around. Natasha sighed. Plan B it is then. “Good. Remember that.” Her hold shifted, now pressing on the sides of the boy’s neck. Peter’s eyes closed in second, head slumped forward as much as Natasha’s arm would allow. She released the hold, propping Peter’s body up.

Natasha turned her head to look at Steve. His jaw was set, and lips pressed in thin line. “Let’s get him upstairs,” she said.

Steve bent down and lifted the unconscious teen on his shoulder. He walked up the stairs, Natasha following close behind.

“Tony wants to speak with us. 10PM.”

“Was it necessary?” Steve asked, ignoring the statement.

“You saw how he was. Do you think he would come quietly? Besides, he’ll be up in less than thirty seconds.”

The first thing Peter felt was something digging into his stomach. Then he realized he was being carried. “—it safe? It wasn’t that long since he woke up,” he heard Steve say.

“He’ll be alright, don’t worry.” She noticed Peter twitch, soon followed by weak groan. “See? He’s already waking up. Twenty-two seconds.”

Peter opened his eyes, which were met with grey fabric of Steve’s shirt. Slightly turning his head, he noticed they already left the stairs and walking towards the room he escaped from. Steve walked into the room, lowering Peter on the bed. Natasha stayed standing in the doorway. Once Peter was seated, Steve took several steps back, as to not make him panic again. Peter scooted closer towards the wall, covering his throat with his hand. What the hell was that? When did he black out?

Steve looked around, noticing the pill on the windowsill. “You didn’t take the medicine. Why is that?”

Peter’s eyes were full of discomfort and fear as they moved from Steve to the windowsill to Natasha and back to Steve. He was now pressed against the wall.

“Answer the question,” Natasha said, softening her voice. It would be only more trouble for them if they scared the kid more.

Peter took quiet breath. “Don’t,” he whispered, his voice rasping. He cleared his throat before trying again. “Don’t trust it.”

“Smart,” she joked.

“Nat!” Steve scolded the woman who gave him a smirk in return. He turned back to Peter. “It’s really just medicine to ease your headache. I promise it’s not anything else.” Peter still looked unconvinced. Steve sighed. “Anyway, here’s dinner,” he pointed to the bowl on the table, “eat it while it’s warm. And slowly, so you won’t get sink. And,” he waved to the door, “don’t do that again. Understood?”

From the corner of his eye, Peter glanced at Natasha. The look she gave him was oddly soft, a stark contrast with the tone she used before. It still sent small shiver down his spine, which he managed to suppress.

“Yes.”

“Good,” Steve nodded and exited the room along with Natasha. The lock clicked, imprisoning Peter once again.

Peter bent over, hugging himself tight. He failed. There were two of them. What now? Hundreds of thoughts raced through his mind. His head began to hurt again.

He decided to check out the content of the bowl instead. There was an oatmeal with nicely arranged blueberries and pieces of banana on the top. Peter had to admit, it looked good. His stomach constricted, but not from nausea. This was hunger. All of the hesitation he felt towards eating the meal was shoved away when he remembered that the last thing he ate was lunch at school. That was… many hours ago. More than twenty-four hours. More than a whole day.

Peter decided to risk it. He sat down, took the spoon from the bowl and carefully put the oatmeal in his mouth. It was good. He ate slowly, as Steve recommended. The man seemed like he didn’t want to hurt him, but Peter couldn’t be sure about anything in this place. And he was sick of the nausea. He took another spoonful.

“I still think it was pretty harsh.”

Natasha swallowed her own oatmeal. “Look, I don’t like this any more than you do. None of us do. I know he’s a kid, but we can’t afford to be lenient just because of his age. He managed to outsmart you. This will make things easier for all of us. If he behaves, we won’t have to do anything we don’t like. We get Stane back and he’ll be home before he knows it.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighed. “But in my defense, he looked like he was ready to fall over when I left him.” Silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of spoons hitting the ceramic bowls. They finished eating at the same time.

“Though, I have to say, I’m almost impressed,” Natasha said, pushing a stray lock behind her ear. “We had grown up people that cried in these situations. For a kid, he held up pretty good. Who would’ve thought he would have it in him to attempt something like this?”

Steve returned her smirk. “You know, I was thinking the same thing.”

Natasha let out amused hum before she pushed the chair away and gathered the empty bowls. “Well, let’s clean this up so we will have some time to spare before the call.”

“Not a detailed word to Tony about what happened?” Steve asked, taking the dishes from Natasha and putting them in the sink.

“Only a vague mention,” Natasha confirmed.

Knowing Tony, he wouldn’t pry. He didn’t particularly care about the hostages they held, unless they had some wanted or interesting information. Which the boy didn’t have.

Natasha snickered from beside him. “What?”

“You look ridiculous in that apron.”

“You’re just jealous I look better in it than you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We reached 100 kudos! Thank you all so much!
> 
> Headcanon that Steve cooks healthy for the team. I think I spent too much time on researching how chokeholds work, but oh well. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing I googled. Now official, I'll be updating twice a week, every week. This wouldn't be possible without your support.


	5. Chapter 5

“Did they receive the package?”

Steve and Natasha sat in front of a screen, Tony and Rhodey’s faces looking at them from the other side. The call began the second the clock struck ten. Punctuality was important in the business.

“According to our moles, Parkers had strange look on their faces and they seemed to be in a rush,” Rhodey said. “Those two, Fury and few others locked themselves in soundproof room. Before that, one of them overheard Mary saying that ‘he wasn’t picking up’ to her husband. It’s safe to assume they did. We’ll have more information when Sam arrives, as he is higher up the chain than others.”

“I wish I could see that look on their faces,” Tony said.

The package in question contained several pictures of Peter and simple letter. Some pictures were taken from across the street, some were taken inside of the apartment, in his own bed before he was kidnapped. The rest was taken when Clint and Bucky arrived at the lake house in the early morning. It was staged well. Peter, still unconscious, was placed on a chair, his arms and legs tied to make it look believable. It was weird to take those, but oh well. Once they had good enough picture, the teen was taken to the room where he later woke up.

The letter contained a simple message. _You know what we want._

“So, it’s a matter of time before we get Stane back,” Steve concluded.

“We believe so,” Rhodey replied.

Tony looked bored. He had the look that clearly said that he would rather be in his lab, tinkering with new inventions. “How’s the kid, anyway?” he asked out of something that resembled courtesy, eager to get this over with.

There was motionless, soundless understanding between Steve and Natasha. It came up.

“There was a little accident after he woke up, but nothing too serious. It was taken care of,” Natasha said.

It wasn’t Tony but Rhodey who asked further. “What did he do?”

“He tried to run. Understandable, since he was confused with the drugs and scared out of his mind. He didn’t make it to the door,” it was Steve’s turn to reply.

“Did you tell him anything? About why he is there?” Rhodey didn’t let up, making sure. He knew they were competent, and he wasn’t trying to discredit them. He just finished long shift at the station, the way he speaks to his subordinates seeping in. God, he needed some sleep. Lucky for him, his leave is getting closer and he’ll be able to spend a few days at the compound.

“No.”

This time, Tony replied. “Good. Keep it that way. The next time he tries to run, you know what to do.”

Steve snorted. “I don’t think he will try it again. Nat gave him quite a scare.” The woman looked proud at that. Even Tony smirked.

“Alright. I’ll go bring you more fresh supplies in a few days,” Rhodey informed the two. “And… I believe that’s everything. I can finally get some sleep.”

“Oh, good. I’m going to lab then,” Tony said while getting up.

“Nuh-uh, you’re going to bed too!”

“But platypus—”

“No. Just because Pepper is staying at the penthouse today—”

Tony’s protests and Rhodey’s arguments were stopped by the cut of the connection.

Steve glanced at the clock on the wall. When has it got so late? He was glad that the plan was, so far, proceeding as intended. He didn’t want to think about what would come if it turned out to be useless.

Natasha got up from her chair and stretched, breaking Steve from his musing.

“I should probably go get the dishes from Peter’s room.”

“Want me to guard the door in case he, although I doubt that, tries to bolt again?”

Steve shrugged. “Feel free.”

When Steve opened the door, it was plunged the darkness, the only light coming from the hallway behind him. The man tensed, half-expecting something to happen. That was until he heard soft, almost inaudible breathing. On the bed was a lump, the blanket on top of it rising and falling. Steve took a step closer to the bed, letting in more light. Peter was lying on his side, facing the wall. One of his hands was hidden under his pillow, the other one clutching a fistful of the blanket over his chest.

Steve crept across the room towards the table, taking the bowl into his hands. He felt relief wash over him upon seeing almost empty bowl. At least the teen wasn’t going on hunger strike. When he turned back to the door, his eyes slid to the windowsill, landing on the small pill. He took it in his other hand, sighing and shaking his head.

Well, at least he ate. Small victories.

The shadows shifted as Natasha peeked into the room.

“He’s sleeping,” Steve whispered, lifting his finger to his lips.

Natasha silently cooed. “He looks like a baby in that position.” Yeah, she would hate it if she was forced to hurt him.

“Let’s hit the hay too. It’s late,” Steve said and locked the door.

Peter woke up slowly to bright room. He let his eyes lazily roam around the room, then he sighed. So the last day wasn’t some weird dream after all, huh? Parker luck.

He noticed the bowl was missing. It was there when he went to sleep. A shudder ran over his body at the idea that someone was in the room while he was sleeping. The thought helped him to shake off some of the morning grumpiness. Though, he should probably get used to it. After all, he’d been handled by those two unknown men that took him from his apartment, and then Steve and Natasha. Not to mention there could be others.

Peter didn’t know how much time he spent sitting on the bed, staring at the opposite wall. Or what time it was. A clock would be useful here.

Three knocks, the door unlocked and Peter tensed, his hands curling into fists. Steve walked inside, carrying a plate.

“Ah, good. You’re awake.”

“Y-yeah,” Peter stuttered, not really knowing how to answer to that.

“Hm.” Steve acknowledged, placing the plate on the table. “How are you feeling?”

Smalltalk? Really? What is he supposed to answer to _that?!_ _“Oh, yeah, to be honest, I’m not doing so hot with being kidnapped from my own bed but okay?”_ But Peter assumed that answer wouldn’t be appreciated. Best to play it safe for the time being.

“Uhm, good? My… my head doesn’t hurt anymore, if that’s what you…” he trailed off.

The atmosphere was turning tense and both of them could tell. Avoiding eye contact didn’t help much either.

“Well, I’m… going to leave this here,” Steve’s moves were a bit choppy as he pointed to the plate and walked to the door.

Peter snapped back to present. “Oh, yeah. Uh, thank you. For yesterday’s dinner too.” Despite the situation he was in, Peter remembered his manners. Uncle Ben and aunt May didn’t raise some ill-mannered brat after all.

Steve looked slightly taken back at that. The man managed to give a nod in return and left the room.

Today’s breakfast was grilled sandwich with ham and cheese. The good look matched the taste. Peter wondered which one of his two – is kidnappers the correct term when they’re only holding him here? Probably yes – cook here. from his experience, it could be either of them. Aunt May was the kind of person that managed to burn clear water. Uncle Ben took care of the cooking, before…

Peter shook his head to get rid of the thoughts. They wouldn’t do him any good here. He needs to focus if he’s to escape this place.

The sandwich disappeared and Peter’s stomach got full. “Now, let’s do this one more time,” he said to himself. He went over the content of his backpack. To his dismay, nothing extra seemed to appear. There were still his clothes, the sneakers were next to the bed, on the bottom was the broken electric toothbrush…

Wait. Bottom. His backpack had double bottom. Not in the right sense, but it was reinforced so it wouldn’t accidentally tear, since the real bottom was kind of thin. But not thin enough to…

Peter shot a look at the door, making sure no one was watching him. He reached the bottom and moved the sturdy tablet as much as it would allow. Next intake of breath was shaky. There, on the bottom lied several tiny, flat tools Ned had given him as a present last year. Peter thought he would never use it, as he had proper ones at home. He’ll have to thank his friend when he’s out of this place. Two screwdrivers, tweezers… Hopeful laugh bubbled in Peter’s chest. Of course, they wouldn’t find it; you wouldn’t notice it was there if you already didn’t know, not to mention it was difficult to pull away the second bottom.

Lockpicking was out of questions for him. Peter shot a glance at the broken toothbrush. If he remembered correctly, it was fully charged when he got it. Yeah, he could work with this. But not here, and not now. He stuffed the things back, making it look like nothing was amiss in the first place.

Next thing: shower. It was summer after all.

The shower was also a place where some of the best ideas were born. Peter did just that. A plan was born, but he couldn’t rush it. He’ll observe and play by their rules, keeping his head down. And once he’s out, he’ll go straight to the police station since these people know where he lives. That would be the first place they would wait for him.

The showed didn’t take longer than five minutes. God, it was good to think straight again, without anything messing with his head. He felt like himself.

Peter opened the bathroom door and promptly froze in the doorway. Natasha was sitting on his bed, arms and legs crossed. Her gaze bore into Peter’s. Though Peter couldn’t sense hostile intention, his legs began to shake. He felt like she could see right through him, reading his mind. For a moment, a fear that his plan was discovered shot through him. But that couldn’t be. Could it?

Natasha stood up, picking up several books she was shielding from Peter’s view and placing them on the table. “Here. Steve picked out some books for you so you won’t get bored.”

Peter felt the fear ease, though not by much. Yesterday’s memory was still fresh in his mind. Natasha kept looking at him for a few more seconds before she took the empty plate and began to leave.

“T-thank you,” Peter forced himself to call out after her, albeit his voice lacked its usual volume.

“You’re welcome,” she replied, and the door locked.

Peter let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His legs threatened to give under him, so he plopped down on the chair. He turned his attention to the books in an attempt to calm down. There were five of them in total.

“Come on, I’m not MJ,” he muttered as he looked at the titles of first three books. Peter wasn’t much of a fan of classic works. Was Steve just old soul or was this all he could find here? All hope left him until he moved the fourth book away, which he could somehow enjoy, to look at the last one. Now this was interesting.

_The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_

Now this will do. The book was in great shape, as if it hasn’t been opened yet. Peter glanced out of the window, then back at the book. Well, he didn’t have much to do right now, so why not? He opened the book and began to read.

“You were right,” Natasha told Steve when she entered the kitchen.

“Isn’t it bizarre? I mean – after everything, he still manages to say ‘thank you’ to us?”

“I would say it’s a nice change of pace. We’re so used to people screaming and cussing us out in these situations. I think it’s adorable. Shows how innocent he is.”

“I guess so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look at that adorable little shit, already worming his way into peoples’ hearts without even trying.
> 
> Those double bottom backpacks are cool, though I only found loose coins in that space when I used to wear one to school. And grilled sandwiches? They’re gift from heaven. If there’s ever a week without me eating at least one, assume I was replaced by an impostor. Thank you for coming to my ted talk and thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated.


	6. Chapter 6

Rhodey was very busy man. Juggling two jobs as right hand of Tony Stark and a chief of police was no easy task. He was the one responsible for hiding all the evidence from law enforcements about his best friend’s illegal activities. He was also the one bringing Tony information from within, so the man could plan his next step or to dispose of someone.

That was it. He knew about everything that happened in New York.

That’s why he found it a little strange that there was no report of certain missing teen yet. Parkers knew. Everybody knew that Parkers knew. They didn’t file a missing person report and from what Sam reported, Shield wasn’t doing anything about the situation yet either. Rhodey was expecting some form of action from at least one side.

Shield had suspicion there was someone in police department who had ties to Tony. Shield didn’t know it was Rhodey. Perhaps that was the reason there was no report? It was possible.

The man rubbed his eyes before looking at the clock on the wall of his office. Five more minutes until his shift was over. Then he will be off to drive for a couple of hours to deliver supplies to the lake house. He’ll check on the situation and be off to the compound.

Three minutes. Two minutes. One minute. Some of his subordinates wished him pleasant rest of the day and to enjoy his leave. Sinking into his car seat with a groan, Rhodey turned off the license plate tracking system, courtesy of Tony. The device was scanning license plates of cars driving behind him and matching names to them, the system flagging the plate in case the system finds something suspicious.

One less thing to worry about, though he will stay vigilant. He sighed. Better to get this over with.

Peter spent the last few days reading, observing and lastly, working. He’s read The Hitchhiker’s Guide twice. There was no questioning nor torture. Meals came in three times a day, and except Steve and occasionally Natasha coming in to collect the dishes, Peter was left alone. That was the time when he closed himself in the bathroom, working in approximately fifteen-minute intervals several times a day. His little project was always hidden behind the towels below the sink.

It was starting to get lonely with no one to talk to. The two adults downstairs didn’t count – Steve was awkwardly casual and Natasha was… well, scary. The silence was becoming unbearable. So, he did the only logical thing. Peter talked to his own reflection in the mirror, quoted vines, scenes from movies and equations under his breath. He kept his voice low and door cracked open as he counted his days here.

He went to sleep on Thursday and woke up here on Friday. Now was Tuesday. At least he hoped. The day he will make his escape. When Steve brought him lunch, he also told Peter he will be taking the laundry basket to do the laundry.

Peter waited. Sitting on his bed, he kept shooting glances at his pillow, or more like what was hiding under the pillow. His heart raced and his body was tense. He was tense every time someone walked in the room, so it won’t look out of the ordinary. Plus, it wouldn’t be the first time they would catch him staring off into the space.

Peter couldn’t help but flinch when Steve walked in.

“Everything in the laundry basket?”

“Y-yeah.”

The man nodded and went to retrieve the basket. With shaky hands, Peter reached under the pillow and pulled out what was once electric toothbrush. The way Steve acted reminded Peter of Ben a little. That’s why Peter will be sorry about what he’s about to do.

Unsuspecting Steve walked out, carrying the basket in one hand. Before he could make it to the table, electric crack was heard, followed by his cry of pain, a thud and heavy breathing.

“I’m sorry,” Peter’s silent voice shook as he took several steps back. The noise Steve made would be enough to alert Natasha, who is sure to come barging in any second. Peter covered the improvised stun gun with his hand, making himself look like he didn’t know what was happening. He had still two shots left.

His prediction came true. Peter made sure to keep his eyes on the man to not raise any suspicion as Natasha rushed in, ready to fight.

The scene in front of her surprised her, but she didn’t allow herself to reflect it on her face. Steve was on the ground, panting and groaning and Peter was standing on the side, shaking at the sight. What the hell happened? She took a step towards Steve.

A mistake she had no idea she just made.

“W-watch out!” Steve gritted through his teeth.

Natasha spun around, ready to pacify any threat. She struck Peter’s side at the same time as the stun gun made contact. She fell to her knees.

Peter took only a second to compose himself and regain his balance. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m really so sorry.” With that, he spun and bolted towards the exit.

“What was that?” Natasha was the first one to speak, her voice strained.

“I don’t know,” Steve replied as he began to stand up. “But we have to get him before he runs too far.”

Between the forest and the lake, Peter chose the middle path. Which was literally the road. His feet pounded against the asphalt, lungs burning, greedy for the fresh air. “This sucks. I swear, once this is over, I’ll take up running,” he wheezed. Peter knew he shouldn’t, but he kept throwing glances over his shoulder. It never ended well in movies, as the characters always tripped and that was their demise. Although the road was smooth, with how his life turned out to be, combined with Parker luck, one could never know.

A sound of a car approaching reached his ears. Relief flooded Peter’s body when he reached a turn and saw it approach. The car slowed down before Peter could get the driver’s attention.

He should’ve realized something was wrong.

The man got out and the first thing Peter noticed was that the man was dressed in police uniform. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong?” Rhodey asked.

Peter tried to catch his breath, glancing back with wild eyes. “P-please, you’ve got to help me. I-I’ve been kidnapped and there are people after me and I don’t know why!” Adrenaline began to fade, leaving room for panic to take over Peter.

A steady hand fell on his shoulder. The officer looked into his eyes. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. Everything’s fine now.”

“Please, help me,” Peter nearly sobbed. He couldn’t bring himself to look the man in the eye. What a pathetic sight he must be?

“I will, don’t worry.”

“Thank you,” Peter breathed out, closing his eyes briefly. He was safe. Or so he thought.

There was pounding of feet coming from behind, followed by shout. Peter turned around, his heart skipping a beat. They’ve caught up.

“Rhodey! Catch him!” Steve called out, Natasha running next to him.

Confusion shot through Peter for a second, trying to figure out at who they were shouting to – until he spotted the name on the officer’s uniform. Rhodes. Peter’s eyes widened with fear, too slow to move from the man that grabbed him, spun him around and wrapped his arm around him, the other one already holding handcuffs hanging on his belt.

Peter trashed in the grip, desperately trying to break free. One of his hands refused to close into fist. _The taser._ He still had one shot left, though way weaker than the first two. Peter put it against the officer’s thigh and pressed the button. The grip weakened and Peter slipped out, dropping the taser in the process.

Road was a no-go. Peter turned to the right and ran into the forest, hoping the trees would provide cover for him.

“Damn it,” Natasha cursed under her breath as they got to Rhodey, who was doubled over, pressing his palms against his knees and groaning.

“What the hell? How did he get his hands on a taser?” he asked.

“No idea, but we need to go after him before he gets too far or lost,” Steve repeated the words from before, already moving towards the tree line.

The forest went slightly downhill, making it easier for them to track their runaway. The skid marks Peter’s shoes left behind on the ground were prominent. That was until the ground leveled into forest path. The decline continued on the other side.

“This would be easier if Friday was here,” Rhodey muttered, looking around for any sign of the teen.

“He couldn’t have gotten too far. From what we saw, he doesn’t run that fast,” Natasha said.

“Peter?” Steve’s voice boomed through the area. “Peter, come out. Nothing will happen to you, I promise. There will be no consequences to this if you come out now.”

The only answer they received was the sound of birds chirping above.

“Do we split out?”

“That’s probably the best course of action.”

Silence followed.

Unbeknown to them, the trio was standing right above him. There was a hole in the slope below the road where Peter was curling into a ball to make himself look as small as possible, hidden by a bush. His palms pressed against his mouth to muffle any sound he could make. His lungs burned, but he couldn’t afford take in full breath.

He heard as the people above moved. His sixth sense told him not to move yet. So, he didn’t.

The softest of sighs followed by crack of dry stick made him flinch. Someone slid down the short slope and kept walking down. Peter caught a glimpse of red hair before it disappeared.

He allowed himself to breathe slowly, quietly. What now? His home and the police station were both out of question. Where would he go now?

Peter shook his head. First thing first, he needs to get out of here. He’s essentially a sitting duck right now. If he was to guess, the two men went the opposite directions of the road. He saw Natasha walk down left. Should he return to the road above or run deeper into the forest? Hm. He’ll compromise.

Hesitantly, Peter stood up on shaky legs, setting direction to down right. He managed to make about five steps when a feminine voice came from behind him.

“Did you really think you could get away?”

No. How did she get behind him? Peter didn’t hear her return! He aborted the move to turn around, choosing to break into a sprint instead.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Natasha hissed and went after him.

The woman was quickly gaining on him. It was as if there were no roots sticking out of the ground, trying to trip her. Peter, on the other hand, had to watch his every step. A branch snapped somewhere above him. There was Steve, running along the road above.

And that’s when Parker luck struck again.

The split-second Peter took his eyes of the ground, his foot stepped on a root covered in leaves and wet moss and slipped. A hand made an attempt to grab him, but it was too late. Peter cried out and felt himself rolling down the hill, feeling every stone and root hit his body. He felt sharp pain on his forehead and then there was nothing.

Tony was having a good day. There was a successful deal, useful intel obtained, and a mole caught in the lower ranks. Alright, the last one was a bit annoying, but nothing that couldn’t be easily solved.

That was until Rhodey called.

“What do you mean _injured?!_ And how did he even get away?”

“Look man, I’ll tell you everything later. Just get either Cho or Strange ready.”

Tony could hear Steve talking in the background, presumably to the kid. “Fine,” he said and hung up. Gosh, the kid’s trouble. That won’t fly here.

Steve was sitting in the backseat, Peter’s head in his lap and a bandage pressed against his forehead to stop the bleeding.

“Come on, son, wake up. Wake up, open your eyes.”

One of Peter’s brown eyes opened by a crack, not really seeing anything. “No, leave m’lone. ‘m sleeping,” he slurred before his eye close again.

“If there wasn’t a possibility he could be dying, this would be hilarious. Reminds me of Tony when he’s cranky in the morning,” Rhodey laughed nervously.

Natasha stepped on the gas, making the car go faster. The scared look in Peter’s eyes – familiar eyes for some reason – as he fell refused to leave her mind.

She should have caught him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Run, Forre- I mean Peter, run! Oh,never mind...
> 
> I have no idea if you can really make stun gun out of electric toothbrush, but if Michael Reeves can make scream-powered microwave and a Roomba that yells when it hits something, I think it would be within realm of possibility. And this is fanfiction, so... 
> 
> Thank you for reading and all the support!


	7. Chapter 7

“Wait, how old? Stark, I’m a surgeon, not a pediatrician.”

“Wait, who’s keeping you on a payroll? Oh, that’s right. Me!” Tony snapped back at the man. “Look, I just need you to make sure that the kid will live, that’s all.”

The two men walked down the hallways of the compound towards the med-bay where Steve will be bringing the kid any minute now. With Cho away in Korea, Tony had to call in Strange. The man was arrogant, but also incredibly skilled. After all, he was the reason Tony was still among the living. The scar on his chest was a proof of that.

“Technically, it’s Ms. Potts, not you.”

Tony rolled his eyes. This was a never-ending battle for the last word. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

They arrived to the med-bay, Stephen preparing the room for the arrival of his patient. The room was equipped better than some of the most lucrative hospitals. About a minute later, two sets of hurried footsteps could be heard running towards them.

Rhodey was the first one to enter, pushing the door open, allowing Steve to walk in with unconscious teenager in his arms. Natasha remained hovering in the doorway.

“Put him on the bed and tell me how he got like this. And keep it short,” Stephen ordered.

This is the first time Tony saw Peter in person. Although it was hard to compare his face to the picture, as clearly hastily wrapped bandages covered his whole forehead and went a little over his eyes. There was a red smudge bellow the bandage, presumably the blood was wiped from there. Little bit of red began to appear on the white fabric as well.

The kid looked even smaller than he imagined. Somehow, it felt like he didn’t belong on that bed. And for a moment, Tony saw himself as a child, rubbing his bandaged head because he wasn’t fast enough to dodge…

A grimace flashed through Tony’s face and he swiftly cut off that train of thoughts. That was… odd.

“He,” Steve gesticulated, trying to find the right word, “fell and rolled down the slope in the forest. He’s regained consciousness once, though not for longer than a few seconds.”

“Strange, do your wizard thing.”

“Alright,” Stephen clasped his hands together and rounded on the people behind him. “Everybody out.” He took a penlight out of his pocket.

“Are you seriously kicking me out of my own med-bay?”

Stephen looked at Tony. “Am I telling you how to run your crime empire? No. So, out. Now!”

“Come on, man. We’ll be in the way anyway. It’s not like the kid is going anywhere,” Rhodey placed his hand on Tony’s shoulder, pulling his friend away.

“Yeah, you’re right. Besides, we have to discuss a certain _topic,_ ” Tony replied, narrowing his eyes at Steve and Natasha. The door to med-bay closed behind them. There was small bloodstain on Steve’s shirt. Tony decided to hold the conversation until they get somewhere more private. Luckily, his lab was close.

“Spill,” Tony demanded once the door closed. “How did he even get past you two? He’s tiny! He looks like he would have trouble lifting a bucket filled with water!”

Natasha stepped forward, placing small device on one of the worktables without a word.

“What is that?” Tony eyed the thing up and down, not understanding what it has to do with anything. “Is- is that a handle of electric toothbrush?” What the hell?

“This is how he got past us. We don’t know when or how he did this, but he managed to turn it into some kind of taser. It was strong enough to get us on the ground, giving him time to run. Luckily, Rhodey was there to slow him down.”

Tony picked up the device, pressing the button. Nothing happened. His hand reached for a screwdriver.

“It got you on the ground? Sure, it hurt when he tased me, but not enough to do that,” Rhodey said.

“Huh.”

Three pairs of eyes turned to Tony, who managed to take the lid off and was inspecting the inside. Tony knew how the inside of the toothbrush was supposed to look like from the time he messed around with his own, and it wasn’t supposed to look like this. The whole thing barely held together, but the man saw what the kid had done there.

“Not too bad,” he smirked, nodding his head in approval. He was right. Kid’s smart. The others gave him strange looks. “He made a working taser with seemingly no tools. But he had to have something…” His head snapped up. “Okay, the kid got the better of you. This time, you’re forgiven – but just because we all underestimated what he can do. Go back to the lake house, find out what you missed, clean up like he never set his foot in there and come back. He’ll be staying here from now on. And change your shirt!”

The two left, leaving Tony and Rhodey alone. Their gazes were drawn to the device.

“So, you’re basically saying the kid’s a genius,” Rhodey said, poking at the thing. “Almost like someone else I know.”

“The hell? You’re comparing me to a kid?”

Rhodey couldn’t help but laugh at his friend’s horrified expression.

Peter’s eyes opened to white, sterile room. Something about the environment made him irritated. Or was it the action of waking up in unknown place? Where did that come from?

“Welcome back to the land of the living.”

Peter searched for the source of the flat voice. Turning his head to the side, he spotted a man, a doctor, sitting at a table and reading something on a tablet. Finally, the man’s eyes met his and he walked over to the bed Peter was lying on.

Peter rubbed his hand across his face, feeling the thing wrapped around his head. A bandage? Why did he have a bandage on his head? Pushing himself upward, Peter looked around the room. Did he have some kind of accident? Have Ben and May been notified he’s here? “Why am I in the hospital?”

Light shone into his eyes, making Peter flinch. Just as it appeared, it disappeared, leaving blind spots in its wake. Peter blinked to get rid of them.

“What’s your name?” the doctor asked, ignoring Peter’s question.

Name? His name. Oh, yeah! “I’m Peter. Peter Parker.”

“How are you feeling? Any nausea? Pain?”

“Uh, no? Why? What happened?” This was a strange doctor. Weren’t doctors supposed to introduce themselves?

“What is the last thing you remember?”

“Last thing I remember…” Peter repeated the question to himself. He looked down on his legs covered in thin blanket. What did he remember? His face lit up in recognition. “The school ended, I put my things in my locker and went outside to wait for my aunt and uncle to pick me up. We’re going to see a movie in the evening.”

Peter’s smile slipped from his face at the look the doctor gave him.

Oh, no. Stephen mentally groaned. When he was done with the examination, he studied the boy’s file while he waited for him to wake up, to know what he was dealing with. From what he read, his aunt and uncle were dead.

“Mr. doctor?”

Okay, Stephen will attempt to break it to him gently, just because of those innocent eyes. “That was more than a year ago. They’re gone.” Welp, at least he tried. He never said he was good at it.

Puzzled expression took over Peter’s face. Gone? Like, they’ve gone home? But more than a year? “What? I’ve been here for more than a year? I-I don’t… I don’t…” There was something amiss. Like a chunk of his memory was missing. Then it hit him like a lightning out of clear sky. The events of past year and half… and the events of past days.

Images flashed through his mind, both older and recent. The parking lot where he waited for Ben and May, the odd looks people in that foster home were giving him, moving out of their apartment, the new apartment – so empty, the green mist, all those people he didn’t know…

Peter gripped his elbows, leaning forward to ease the pain in his chest. His eyes burned. They’ve got him again. He failed to escape.

“No, no, no,” he murmured under his breath with no break, his voice breaking. “Ben, May.” What now? Peter’s mind was in overdrive, caught between fight or flight. He wants to flee. He _needs_ to flee. If he stays here, the walls will close in on him and—

There were hands firmly grasping his shoulders, giving Peter’s body slight shake. “Snap out of that.”

Peter tired, he really did. But… he couldn’t. He’s got to get out of here.

“I don’t think that will be possible right now,” Strange said.

Did he say that last part out loud?

Stephen sighed. He let go of Peter’s shoulders and went for a cabinet on the opposite wall. His eyes found the clear vial he was looking for, unwrapped the syringe and prepared a dose. He turned back around, seeing that the boy was about to topple over on the ground. By some miracle, Peter didn’t get a concussion during the fall. Stephen wouldn’t let him get one now.

In three strides, he crossed the distance and pushed Peter down on the bed, holding his arm down and injecting him with the substance. The prick of the needle seemed to do the trick.

“Ow!” Peter yelped, covering the hurting spot whit his other hand. “What was that?” he asked with unease at the sight of the syringe and the strange feeling that was spreading through his body. He felt his heart slowing down to its normal rhythm.

“Just a little relaxant to keep you calm. Your limbs might feel a little numb for about fifteen minutes, which is a normal side-effect, but otherwise, it’s harmless,” Stephen said as he disposed of the syringe. “Now,” he turned back to Peter, “the good thing is that you had no serious injury, but don’t attempt anything like that again soon. Something is telling me the others won’t appreciate it.”

Peter watched the man walk to the table and put his thing in his bag. “Please, let me go,” he pleaded, looking upward to prevent the tears from falling. Though Peter knew the answer he was about to receive.

Stephen swung the strap of the bag over his shoulder and walked to the bed, something silver in his hand reflecting the light from the lamp above. With swift movement, he snapped one cuff around the boy’s wrist, the other one around the side frame of the bed. He saw as realization dawned on Peter, who began to pull at the handcuffs.

“Sorry, orders from the top. My job here is done.” _Damn, the kid looked like kicked puppy,_ Stephen thought before he sighed. “Look, I’m going to tell you this: don’t make this harder for yourself. Play by their rules and you’ll be fine.” Probably, but that went unsaid. “They clearly want you alive. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.” With that, he turned around and left.

Now, to find Stark. There could be two places where he could be; his lab or his office – that’s where he always found him. So, lab first. He saw the other man, Barnes, walk in there as well, but the man didn’t see him. He opened the door and held out his hand before retreating once again. This time, he noticed Strange. They exchanged curt nods before going their separate ways again.

Stephen didn’t bother to knock. “Good news for you lunatics, the boy is better than expected and will live. The bad news, the stress will probably do him in.”

“Lunatics?!” Tony called out, offended.

“Really?” Rhodey asked, his brow creasing. “There was quite a lot of blood.”

“Human body is extremely resilient, yet fragile. That was just from a cut on his forehead, it looked worse than it was. His body shut down because of the shock. Otherwise, no concussion, nothing broken, just a couple of bruises.”

“What did you mean by your second statement?” Tony raised his chin, seemingly ignoring what was being said.

Stephen rolled his eyes. This was starting to get annoying. “When he woke up, he had a brief episode of amnesia. His brain transported him to safer times, which means he got to relive everything that happened since then. His body responded with panic attack. The stress he’s experienced is not good for him. I’m not a psychologist or psychiatrist but I can say this: if you want him relatively well, don’t stress him out too much. I’ll be going now. I’ll send you complete report when I get home.” Stephen didn’t wait for the answer.

“Asshole,” Tony said to the spot the doctor was previously standing. “Platypus, remind me why keep him around?”

Rhodey was getting tired. All he wanted was a peaceful leave. “Because Stephen Strange is the best surgeon in New York and you wouldn’t settle for anything less.”

“Uh-huh,” Tony nodded to himself, then shrugged and grabbed the device from the table and plastic bag Natasha brought him when they came back. “Well, I guess it’s the time to have a chat with the kid.”

“Tones, you sure? Strange said not to stress him.”

“He said _too much_ ,” Tony made air quotes, “I’ll just have a little chat with him. He got my attention, so he’s got to deal with it and I’m about to satisfy my curiosity.”

Rhodey sighed but followed. “This won’t end well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello darkness my old friend. New semester began again.  
> But let’s play a game called “What will author do about school?”  
> A) Author will study throughout the year and do her schoolwork reasonably  
> B) Like a reasonable adult, author will leave everything for the last minute because diamonds are made under pressure, and she will keep writing whenever she wants to because... just because, I have no excuse
> 
> Place your bets in the comments 
> 
> Thank you all for continuous support!


	8. Chapter 8

Peter was getting desperate. The tears stopped flowing a few minutes ago, but what made him restless was the fact that he couldn’t feel… anything, really. He knew he should be scared, terrified and hyperventilating, but the thing the doctor gave him made that impossible. And then there was the numbness. It was weird mix of feeling and not feeling anything. He had no idea how strong he was pulling against the handcuffs, but a mark began to appear when the cuff dug into his wrist.

The digital clock on the wall was the only thing that brought him comfort. Peter assumed it was meant for other people here when they wake up, so they wouldn’t be confused. Tuesday, August 3rd, 8:15PM. So, he was right about how much time he’s spent here.

Peter swung his legs over the edge of bed, his eyes searching for anything that could help him get out of the handcuffs. Time to utilize his random YouTube knowledge again. “Okay, so if I tighten them as much as possible and then- no that’s for zip ties… pin. I need a pin or something,” he muttered to himself.

Of course, there was nothing. It wasn’t like they will leave anything within his reach. And Peter didn’t particularly feel like dislocating his wrist; not to mention he had no idea how to do that. Peter ran his free hand through his hair, feeling the edge of the bandage. He most likely blew his last chance to escape.

At this point, Peter would rather take a chance and live on that snake island near Brazil. He was pretty sure he would have bigger chance at surviving there than here.

In last desperate attempt, Peter wrapped his free hand around the cuffed one and pulled with what he assumes is his full strength. This time, he feels something. The numbness must be fading.

The door opened without a warning, making Peter jump a little. There was no use trying to stand up and get away. He might as well face the people head-on.

A man in expensive looking suit and a goatee strolled in like he was owning the place, which in Peter’s opinion was possible. Though he couldn’t wrap his head around the reason why he was wearing sunglasses indoors, not to mention at this hour. The other man walked right behind the first one. This one Peter recognized as that police officer from before, except he’s changed from his uniform into more casual clothes.

Tony saw the boy flinch as he stopped his endeavors to free his hand. That seemed to be the only display of fear until he’s gotten a better look on Peter’s face. The way he tensed, how his jaw set, the small furrow around his eyes… he was afraid. Good.

“Morning, sleeping beauty. Slept well after that little stunt you pulled?” Tony took off his glasses and put them in his pocket. Peter responded by pressing his arms closer to his torso. “What, cat got your tongue?” Tony tilted his head to the side in mock curiosity, ignoring everybody’s advices and requests to not be too harsh.

“Why am I here?” Peter asked. On one side, he was glad that he managed to keep his voice from shaking. On the other side, he didn’t really understand why he asked that question. It was the first thing that crossed his mind. He thought it was due time that he received some damn answers.

“You know,” Tony began, ignoring Peter’s question, “I don’t understand why you ran. Sure, I admit that waking up in different place than where you fell asleep might be a bit confusing, but nothing you can’t get used to. I know I’m used to it,” he shrugged. Yes, it was different when it’s alcohol induced and it’s your best friend that is dragging your ass home, but that’s beside the point.

“But a nice bed, bathroom, the view from the window and three meals a day? That’s on par with at least three-star hotel.”

“I would rate the experience zero stars on Trivago, then,” Peter replied and mentally screamed at himself to shut his mouth before gets in more trouble.

Tony seemed to be stunned for a second and Rhodey made a weird choking sound, covering it by coughing before resuming straight face. His lips remained strangely pursed though.

Something bounced off the mattress and landed next to Peter. The man was also holding clear bag with his tools. So, they found them. He looked to the side, not wanting to look at the reminder of his failure.

“You made this?”

Peter refused to answer or to acknowledge the man. There were footsteps and fingers roughly gripped his jaw, turning his head to look at the man. Everything about Tony screamed _danger_. Especially the cold look in his eyes. “I don’t like it when people ignore me.”

“Yes,” Peter yelped, and the fingers disappeared, along with the cold look. Yet Peter felt small under the man’s gaze.

Tony reached for nearby chair and sat opposite to Peter. “That’s more like it.” He made sure the boy would catch a glimpse of the gun tucked at his side, before he put on more causal tone. “I must say, I’m impressed. Though I should probably expect that from someone attending one of the best schools in New York.”

The knowledge that these people knew things about him made Peter’s skin crawl. He barely suppressed a shudder.

“But know this,” Tony leaned froward, placing his forearms on his knees, “I won’t tolerate anything like this again. There will be harsher consequences next time.”

It was almost unnoticeable, but Tony wouldn’t be alive today if he hadn’t learned to see the slightest shifts in body language. The kid raised his chin.

“Like what?” Peter asked, the fear in his voice poorly concealed.

Tony had to admit, the kid was acting brave, which was impressive. Or he was being reckless. Both options were possible. “Today you’re lucky and you’ll be going to bed without dinner, but just because I don’t need Strange breathing down my neck about not listening to him. But I’m pretty sure Natasha would like to remind you if you already forgot.”

The boy shifted in discomfort at the reminder of the woman and what she said to him. Peter didn’t mind his punishment too much, especially considering he didn’t feel like he could keep anything down after this encounter. He reminded himself it could be worse. One does not simply underestimate Parker luck.

“And as for the reason why you’re here,” Tony said, pushing himself up and began to pace the length of the room, “your parents took away something of mine. Something I want back here. Right now, you’re more useful to me alive than dead. Don’t make me reconsider that,” he said like he was talking about the weather.

It was annoying that Parkers were taking their time. Come on, it’s been five days since they found out.

“What?” Peter asked, the threat flying over his head for now. So, another of his guesses was kind of right? This had to do something with his parents. “If this is about their research, then I know nothing about it, I swear,” Peter raised his hands in surrender, only for his cuffed one to jerk one back, the chain rattling.

Now was Tony’s turn to be confused. “Research?” Then it dawned on him. Tony wanted to laugh. The kid really had no idea what his parents were doing.

Peter’s heartbeat picked up. Why was the man confused? What if- what if there was a mix-up?! Was Peter mistaken for someone else? Somehow, the possibility of it being so made him feel relieved and uneasy at the same time. Because if there was a mix-up… Peter felt like he had outlived his usefulness.

“Your parents are Richard and Mary Parker, correct?”

“Yeah, they’re scientists.” Oh god, oh god, oh god – what now? There’s no way out of this.

Tony caught Rhodey’s eye. They both reached the same conclusion. Rhodey tired to convey through his eyes to let it go. But when did Tony listen to reason?

“Sorry to tell you this, but they’re not,” Tony said, not sounding apologetic at all. “Yeah, they’re actually agents in this secret organization called Shield. From the look on your face, I guess they didn’t tell you. Oh well,” he shrugged, “everyone has some dirty little secret.”

Peter swore the world stopped spinning. No, that couldn’t be true. “Y-you’re lying,” he said weakly. The man just had to be attempting to get under his skin. “You’re lying!” he repeated louder. There was a plea in his voice; a plea that begged the man to admit he was lying, to start laughing at Peter for falling for it. Peter had science in his blood! That’s what he wanted to do since he could remember. They had to be…

“Kid, I might be many things, but I’m not a liar.” He got around on technicalities.

And with that, Peter’s world shook to its core. There was something about the words that rang true. Peter knew about… The reason he was… He wouldn’t put it above his parents to lie to him. Still, it didn’t make it hurt any less. Peter stared at the floor, his jaw clenched. He was sure he started trembling at some point.

“Welp, I gotta go. I’ve got some other business to attend to,” Tony walked towards the door. “Rhodey, show the kid to the room? And those,” he pointed to the handcuffs, “stay on until you get there. Because shame on you for running.”

Rhodey shot Tony scolding look but nodded, moving towards Peter while he was taking out the key from his pocket.

“And remember,” he said to Peter, “you behave, I get back what’s mine and your parents can come to pick you up and have nice family reunion with hugs and all.”

“Good luck with that,” Peter mumbled under his breath.

“What was that?” Tony looked over his shoulder from the doorway. “I didn’t catch that.”

Tony didn’t catch that, but Rhodey did. Something was definitely wrong here.

“Nothing,” Peter said louder.

Tony kept looking at kid’s slumped shoulders for exactly three seconds before he left the room, squashing the seed of guilt that began to bloom in his chest for some reason. Why was he feeling bad? There was no reason for him to feel bad, he’s done this countless of times before! Maybe because the kid was small?

Rhodey unlocked the cuff chaining Peter to the bed and gently placed it around Peter’s free wrist. It made the boy feel like a criminal, despite being the only one innocent here. “Let’s go,” Rhodey said softly and pulled Peter to his feet, placing his hand on his back and steered him from the room.

Peter kept quiet for the whole journey from the med-bay to his new cell, not bothering to try to remember how many hallways and turns they took.

Tony took different hallways to his and Pepper’s bedroom. He was supposed to go and stay at the penthouse with her, but with the situation as it was, she came here instead. A thud followed by soft curse caused Tony to snap his head towards the vent. There was only one person that could be making noises up there.

“That you, Katniss?”

At the mention of the nickname, Clint spoke, all gleeful. “Ooh, Stark got snark from a kid.”

Tony could hear the grin on the man’s face. “Didn’t your parents teach you it’s impolite to listen in on other people’s conversations?” For a moment Tony wondered why he built the vents big enough for Clint to crawl through.

“Yeah, but I saw Strange leaving and I got curious. I must say, the thing with going to bed without dinner? Very dad-like move. I approve. But the kid’s comment? Priceless. It was hilarious until the end, you were a little harsh, I feel kinda bad. You had to tell him?”

“Don’t you have anything better to do than bother me?” Tony rolled his eyes.

“Oh, yeah. I’m definitely on my way to tell others what hilarious display they missed.”

“Get out of here!” Tony snapped, looking for something he could throw at the vent and hopefully, the shaft would break and hit Clint in the face. He was met with cackling that grew quiet as Clint crawled away. Tony didn’t doubt he was going to follow through what he said.

He sighed, not really able to do anything about it. He’s sure there will be teasing in the morning. Finally, his bedroom door appeared in front of him. He pushed it open and sight of Pepper sitting at the desk with laptop in front of her greeted him.

“Hey, love.”

“Hey, Tony.”

“I’ve missed you so much. Where were you for the whole day?” he bent down and nuzzled a furry head. He got a lick on his cheek in response. “Were you with Happy outside all this time?”

Pepper rolled her eyes. “Nice to know you love Friday more than me.”

“Nonsense,” Tony said as he was giving belly-rubs to the German shepherd sprawled on her back. “I love both of my girls equally.”

Pepper hummed. “Where were you?”

Tony stood up and went to hug his fiancée. “Kid’s trouble. Had to deal with that,” he mumbled into her hair. “But what’s with that?” he asked looking at the laptop. “I thought we agreed to leave work out of this bedroom.”

“Was it good idea to show him your face?”

“No worries. When the time comes, we’ve got something to make him forget, then drop him off back home. He won’t remember a thing,” Tony reassured, kissing her on her cheek.

Pepper hummed, then made disgusted face. “Ew, no. First Friday licks you and now you kiss me? Go wash your face,” she shrugged Tony’s arms from her shoulders and slapped away his attempted advance.

“Fierce but sweet. Exactly how I love my girls,” Tony winked, gave her a quick peck on her lips and went to wash up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boo, Tony. Boo. 
> 
> This chapter was brought to you during my online class. Also, fun fact – I had no idea that August 3rd actually falls on Tuesday this year. Imagine my surprise when I checked out of curiosity. Funny coincidence. And I'm still not done laying down all puzzle pieces, but it will all be worth it when it falls in place.
> 
> Things are about to go down in next chapter. See ya!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: So, you came up with this one scene.  
> My brain: Yup.  
> Me: That’s kinda messed up.  
> My brain: I can come up with worse!  
> Me: I know. Please don’t.
> 
> (Dark Tony being dark Tony)

This room was slightly different than the one at the lake house, which was a surprise. It was bigger and there was a closet. Peter was half-expecting to be thrown in some basement this time, maybe an attic if they were feeling fancy. Like before, the window was no good. The clothes he was currently wearing also weren’t his.

After Rhodey dropped Peter off in the room and removed the handcuffs, he pointed to the fresh clothes on the chair. So, Peter walked to the bathroom, examined the bruises decorating his body and took a shower to get rid of the forest dirt before he changed. Mindful of the bandage on his head, of course.

And now Peter was here, sitting on the bed with his back pressed against the wall and his chin resting on his knees. His fingers played with the edge of his blanket. He was grateful they brought it here – he would hate to lose it. It even pained him to leave it behind during his escape. Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, he could pretend it still smelled like the old apartment. Like home.

His parents lied to him. It could be because they wanted to protect him, and it would made sense if Peter hadn’t overheard a part of a conversation he wasn’t supposed to hear long time ago. But that left a whole new question about where his science skills came from.

Peter’s tired brain didn’t register the door opening.

“You look terrible,” Steve said, a hint of concern seeping into his voice.

“Thanks, it’s the lack of sleep,” Peter replied without thinking or looking at the man. Honestly, he was surprised that after what happened yesterday, Steve would still come to bring him food. Peter also had no idea how he looked. He didn’t move from his spot once he sat down.

“You didn’t sleep for the whole night?”

“Would you sleep if you found out your parents had been lying to you about what they were actually doing?” Peter snapped without meaning to. He was cranky when he was tired. But he hoped the short snappy answers would make Steve get the memo that he wanted to be alone.

Steve raised his hands in placating manner. “Hey, it’s okay. So, Tony told you?”

“Who’s Tony?”

“Suit, goatee, sunglasses?” Steve offered before his forehead furrowed. “Wait, you don’t know who Tony Stark is?”

Should he? Judging from Steve’s reaction, he probably should. He didn’t recognize the face, but the name sounded somewhat familiar. Where did he hear it? Oh well. “Sorry, but no.”

“Oh. Well, you should know that he’s a force to be reckoned with. He was pretty mad. I assume that won’t help to improve our rating?” Steve said in an attempt to lighten up the atmosphere.

“Sorry. And I’m sorry for tasing you, too,” Peter offered and fell silent.

It must have finally catch up with Steve that Peter wouldn’t talk. “Hey, I know it’s difficult for you, but it will be over before you know it.” With that, he left.

Peter didn’t eat the breakfast or the lunch. Ben and May taught him to never waste food and Peter felt bad about it, but this was his little way to show his resistance. When asked about it, he simply replied he wasn’t hungry. By the time the dinner rolled around and was left untouched as well, they must’ve realized something was wrong, considering that Peter had nothing to eat since lunch yesterday.

“P-please, you don’t have to do this. I-I can- I can help you with anything you ask, just please—”

Tony tuned out the pleas of the man, the mole, tied down to a chair. What a pathetic sight, really. He had obviously broken nose, cuts covered exposed skin and there was a hole above his knee where a knife was sticking out a few hours prior.

“No thanks, we already have everything we need,” Tony said nonchalantly, took out his gun and shot, spraying the white tiles in red. Ugh, despite the silencer, it was still loud in the closed space. He turned to Bucky standing in the corner that was cleaning his knife. “Take out the garbage.” Good thing the tiles were easy to clean.

Bucky nodded and Tony left to his next destination. Imagine Tony’s surprise when reluctant Steve came up to him this morning and told him that the kid didn’t as much as touch his food yesterday. Another good thing was that Tony managed to blow off some anger. Now it was just a minor annoyance.

He kept wondering about the Parkers – particularly about the boy’s mother.

Mary was a common name. He met a lot of women named Mary. But Mary Parker? A name Mary Parker didn’t spark any memory. Why wouldn’t that nagging feeling just let him go? Maybe it was because the kid was now here, in the same building.

There was something missing and Tony wouldn’t find peace until he found out what it was.

Tapping of paws caught his attention. “Hey, girl,” Tony patted Friday’s head, “you want to go with me? Yeah?” Friday wagged her tail, happy to accompany her owner. “Let’s go, then.”

Tony unlocked the door and raised single brow at the position the kid was in. His back was on the bed, but his legs were stretched up against the wall. “Interesting choice, but don’t ruin my wall.” And there it was. On the table, untouched breakfast. He heard the kid move on the bed. He turned around to say something but stopped when he was Peter carefully reaching out his hand towards Friday.

Friday gave his hand a sniff, then lick and pressed her head against Peter’s palm. Tiny smile pulled at Peter’s lips as he petted her, some of the tension in his back melting away. The scene radiated odd domesticity, but Friday was like that. She was really sweet dog overall, except when she sees a weapon drawn and she’s not familiar with you. But it was still odd, since she was wary of strangers.

Tony pulled the chair from the table and set it opposite of the bed, mimicking the scene from med-bay. “You didn’t eat your breakfast. Or anything else yesterday.”

Just like that, the tension in Peter’s back returned. “’m not hungry,” he muttered.

“All right, first of all you need to stop mumbling, I’m tired of straining my ears to hear you. Second of all, we both know that’s bullshit. And kids your age have to eat, or are you content with your height? You’re not going to hit that growth spurt like this.”

Peter blushed. “I am growing!” he protested. “I just take a little longer because I was born a month early, that’s all” he added in small voice.

Friday slipped from under Peter’s hand and walked over to Tony. She jumped up on his leg and sniffed his neck before Tony shooed her away and she returned to Peter. She jumped up on the bed, pressing her nose against the boy’s cheek and neck. Her tail started to wag.

“Hey, stop,” Peter giggled as he tried to avoid the wet nose.

Huh, so Friday took a liking to the kid. First time she liked someone that quickly. By the looks of it, the kid liked her too.

“Yeah, right,” Tony said, making it look like he wasn’t buying it. But it would explain why the kid was so small. “Look, if you’re doing this as some show of defiance, I advise you to drop it while I’m asking nicely.”

There it was, that subtle show of defiance. “What if I won’t?”

Okay, time to change tactics. “Hm, let’s see,” Tony tapped his chin, pretending to think. “What was that other boy’s name? Fred? Ted?” A smile spread across Tony’s face when he saw the color drain from Peter’s face. “Oh, that’s right! It was Ned! And that girl? Michelle, right? You are classmates and friends. One on a vacation, the other one on activists convention. Quite admirable of her.” He switched to more carefree demeanor. “Would be a shame if anything happened to either of them.”

“Leave them out of this! Whatever this is,” Peter said in horrified, pleading voice. The bravado he was trying to show fell like a house of cards. If it was just him, then fine! But… He couldn’t allow these people to hurt his friends.

“That depends on your behavior from now on.”

Peter lowered his eyes in defeat.

“Or you know what? Let’s settle this right now. Friday,” Tony’s expression turned serious, whistled and the dog jumped down and sat at Tony’s side. With practiced ease, Tony pulled out his gun and threw it at Peter.

Peter jumped up, tripping over his feet to avoid the gun landing on his lap. What the hell? That’s got to be dangerous!

Tony stood up and went to pick up the gun. “Here’s the deal. Take this, shoot me and you can go, free of consequences,” he said as he advanced on the teen that was backing away. “Pretty sweet deal if I say so myself.”

Peter’s breath hitched when his back hit the wall. He had nowhere to run.

“Come on, take it.”

“No,” Peter’s voice shook.

Tony ignored the protests, grabbed Peter’s arm and forced the gun into his hand and removed his own. Peter gripped the handle in fear of the gun slipping and falling and accidentally going off. Friday let out low growl.

“Friday, hush,” Tony said and she stopped. He turned his whole attention on the teen that was holding the gun at arm’s length, as if the metal was scorching hot. “Go ahead. Shoot.”

“No!”

Peter’s heart beat painfully in his chest when Tony grabbed the hand holding the weapon and began to move it towards his own chest. Peter struggled, but the man was stronger and towering over him. He slipped Peter’s finger over the trigger.

“One pull and it’s over. It’s either me or you.”

“Please, no, Mr. Stark, stop. Stop! Please!” Peter tired to move, but he couldn’t.

“On three,” Tony went on, smiling. “One, two… three.”

Peter screwed his eyes shut and jerked his head to the side as Tony moved Peter’s finger. There was a click followed by silence. No deafening bang, no splay of blood. Peter’s whole body shook. Single tear slid down his cheek.

A chuckle grew into full blown laugh, making Peter squint one eye open. Tony’s shoulders shook as he took a step back, pulling the gun from Peter’s grasp. He was glad to let it go.

Tony pointed the gun upwards and pulled the trigger several times, every time with the same result. “Safety’s on, kiddo,” and it was unloaded, “oh, you should see your face!” he laughed. “You thought I would actually do that? Or that I would shoot here? Come on, what are we? Hydra?”

Throwing his arm around Peter’s shoulders, ignoring how the boy flinched, Tony guided him to the table. He grabbed the chair and made Peter sit. “Eat. I won’t leave until the bowl’s empty,” he said and plopped down on the bed.

Friday approached the boy and lied down at his feet. “That was not funny,” Peter said once his heart slowed down to more natural pace, but his voice still heavily shook. The content of bowl made him feel queasy despite looking delicious, but Peter took the spoon nonetheless. The sooner he’s done with it, the sooner the man leaves.

“So, Peter, tell me about yourself,” Tony said casually, as if he just didn’t traumatize the boy.

“Why? Don’t you already know everything?” Peter asked hesitantly.

“Eh, not exactly. I’m curious. Based on your school, I guess you like science?”

Peter worked through the bowl, answering Tony’s questions just enough to satisfy him. Somehow, the conversation steered towards his parents. “But mom had to do some scientific work before. I’ve read her paper,” Peter said. He read one that was available. He was told the rest was classified.

“Oh really? What topic?” Tony’s brow raised, interested.

“Nanotechnology in medical use.”

“There is no paper like that under that name.”

“By Mary Fitzpatrick,” Peter clarified.

The name caught Tony’s attention. “Fitzpatrick?”

“Yeah. Her maiden name. That was the only paper under that name. The rest—" Peter cut himself off. Yeah, the rest… probably didn’t exist.

Mary. Fitzpatrick. Yeah, that sparked some memory. Tony recalled the photo from the meeting. “Does she—”

“I’m done,” Peter cut him off and put the spoon down in finality. “You can go.”

Tony pushed himself up. “Kicking me out?” He received no response. Peter hung his head and clenched his fists. Tony gave him awkward pat on the back, making the boy flinch again as he took the bowl. “Remember what we talked about. Friday.” The dog got up and followed Tony out of the room.

The missing piece finally fell in place. And if he remembered correctly, Tony met Mary Fitzpatrick in the past. About fifteen years ago? Tony had a vague recollection of some New Year party. A party. Fifteen years ago. They did-

Tony abruptly stopped in his tracks, making Friday look at him in worry. How old was the kid again?

No, no, that couldn’t be right. That’s a coincidence and he could remember the years wrong.

But the feeling in his stomach wouldn’t go away. His eyes slid to the bowl in his hand. Well, there was genetic material. Okay, he would check, but just to get rid of the feeling. 

The vacant med-bay was equipped with _everything_ , he made sure of that. So, he did everything needed and to pass the time, he went to put together the timeline of the events. It added up, but still, it meant nothing. It could still be a coincidence.

The tablet beeped, telling Tony it was done and the results were ready. He reached for the tablet, opening the report. Surely, there was no way-

Oh.

_Oh no._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ladies and gentlemen, it’s here.  
> *yeets chapter and runs away*


	10. Chapter 10

“Tony?” Rhodey called out as he followed Friday down the hallway. “Tones, are you in there?”

Nobody saw the man since morning. Bucky was the last one with him before he went to see the kid. Then Friday appeared and began pulling Rhodey’s pant leg and softly barking, clearly wanting him to follow her. She led him towards the med-bay, where she slipped into the room.

“Tones?” he called out again, quieter as he pushed the door open. His best friend was sitting on the bed, his back facing Rhodey. He wasn’t moving. “Hey, man. There you are. Lunch is done, you’re the only one that didn’t eat yet.”

Friday sat in front of Tony, making huffing noises. The lack of response was concerning.

“Tony, what’s wrong? Are you injured or something?” he asked, stepping in Tony’s line of vision.

His shoulders were slumped, face blank as he kept staring ahead at the blank wall. It was like he wasn’t aware that someone was in the room with him.

“Are you having existential crisis? Should I call somebody? Pepper?”

“I have a kid,” Tony said, his lips barely moving.

“What? Can you repeat that? I didn’t hear that.”

Tony wordlessly passed him the tablet he held in his hands. “Man, you’re scaring me,” Rhodey threw worried look at him before he turned on the device. There was a graph he didn’t understand, but the words on top and bottom made up for that. His eyes bulged.

Paternity test. 99.99% match.

“O-oh. Oh, okay. Is… is this yours?”

“I have a kid,” Tony repeated more coherently, his voice losing some of the flatness.

“Uh, congratulations?” Oh dear. His brain was short-circuiting, just like Tony’s. “So, who-who’s the kid. I mean… is it a boy or a girl? How old? Where are they?”

Silence stretched over the room. “Upstairs, locked in the room.”

Rhodey felt like someone dumped a bucket of icy water on him. “Hold on. You mean,” he paused, “Peter?!”

“I have a kid,” Tony repeated again, this time disbelief and distress seeping into his voice.

Rhodey needed to sit or else he’s gonna fall. He plopped down next to Tony, mirroring the man’s posture and expression. Two of them just sat there, staring off into space. Friday looked between them, letting out a sound that could translate as very annoyed _come on!_

“So, this happened. Are you sure, though?”

“I double-checked. Everything matches up.”

“Wow. A whole-ass kid. How is that even possible?”

“I think I traumatized my kid just now.”

That seemed to snap Rhodey out of his state. “You what?” Tony turned his head away slightly, making Rhodey suspicious. “Tony, what did you do?” No response. “Tony,” Rhodey said in his _‘fess up_ tone. He knew whatever comes from his friend’s mouth, it won’t be good.

Tony grimaced. “Oh God, I’m just like Howard.”

“What? No, no,” Rhodey patted him on the back in placating manner. He knew all about Tony’s fear of turning out like his father. “Look, you’re shocked, I’m too, so I think the best thing we can do right now is to call a meeting and we’ll figure out the things from there. More heads and all that. Sounds good?”

“I guess,” he shrugged, still dazed.

Rhodey pulled out his phone and sent a text to others to be in meeting room in five minutes. “All right. Pull yourself together and then you’ll explain everything to us.”

The pulling-yourself-together didn’t work as much as Rhodey thought it would, as he had to literally drag the man through the hallways, supporting his weight so he wouldn’t fall over. Kind of like the old times, except it had nothing to do with alcohol this time. Or maybe it did…

By the time the two, accompanied by Friday carrying the tablet, stumbled into the room, everyone was already present. Tony’s state raised some concern among the team.

“Woah, is he okay?” Clint asked.

“Yes and no,” Rhodey grunted as he plopped Tony’s ass on the chair. “There’s been a… _development._ ”

“What development?” Bucky asked.

“You see—”

“I have a kid.”

It was like someone dropped live grenade into the room. The words were heavy with haze but managed to shut the everyone up. Some looked shocked, some tried to hide the shock, unsuccessfully. There was no denying the wide-eyed looks.

Clint was the first one to break the silence. “Wait, what?”

Friday took it as a cue to rest her front paws on the table and dropped the tablet in front of him. Clint made a face while he wiped off the saliva. He pressed the button, the screen came to life, showing the results of the DNA test. He gaped, then laughed, shoved the tablet into Natasha’s hands and walked over to Tony.

“You’re a father! Congrats and welcome to the club,” he gripped Tony’s shoulders and shook him around.

The action seemed to snap Tony out of the state. “Hey, hands off the suit!” he slapped Clint’s hands away. “Shoo!”

Natasha passed the tablet to Steve and Bucky. “Who’s the child?” Steve asked and all eyes turned to Tony.

“Eh, you see…” Tony began reluctantly.

“It’s Peter,” Rhodey said quickly, like ripping off a band-aid.

For the second time, stunned silence followed. Unsure glances were thrown around, everybody searching for answers they didn’t have.

“Let me get this straight,” Bucky began carefully. “You,” he pointed at Tony, “gave order to kidnap you’re the kid that now turned out to be… _your_ kid,” he pointed to general direction of Peter’s room. “I’m confused.”

“You know, that actually makes sense. I knew his eyes looked familiar, I just couldn’t place from where,” Natasha shrugged. “He’s smart, as he proved with that taser, not a morning person, can be snarky from what Clint told us and if Tony let his hair grow out, it would curl like his too. The only difference is that he’s got manners. That can’t be said about you.”

“Is that the reason he looked all shaken when I brought him lunch?” Steve asked.

“No, that might be completely separate incident,” Rhodey said before Tony could get anything out of his mouth. The two men narrowed their eyes at each other. “Which he should better start explaining. But let’s start from the beginning.”

“Are you all ganging up on me? I’m your boss. This is my building,” Tony uselessly protested. The team was unimpressed. “Ugh, fine. Remember the meeting last Monday? When Rhodey pulled out those photos? The woman looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place from where, as the name didn’t ring any bells. But give her blue eye contacts, dye her hair blonde and use her maiden name, which is Fitzpatrick... The kid let that name slip in the conversation we had.”

“Fitzpatrick? I thought she died in a plane crash,” Natasha said. And she was right, that woman, agent Fitzpatrick, should have died in April of 2001.

“Well, we all thought so, but apparently she survived,” Tony shrugged.

“Double identity,” Natasha concluded. It was the most possible scenario. Nobody knew nothing about Mary Parker except the year she joined Shield, already married. Mary Fitzpatrick joined the organization three years earlier.

“And how do you know her?” Clint asked.

Tony sighed. “She was sent to get some information from me fifteen years ago. We met at New Year party and knew each other for about a week. And… it was in my wild years and you know how I was back then. Frankly, it was one my life’s best fuc—”

“Okay, we don’t need to hear the details,” Steve raised his hands, a look of discomfort on his face.

Natasha fake gasped. “Steve, he almost said bad word.”

“You all won’t let that go, huh?”

“No, and you know why?” Tony interjected. “It’s because of your handwriting that that old delivery guy butchered my name!”

“Uh, guys? Back on track?” Bucky said, effectively preventing an argument between the two.

“Yeah, right. It happened only once and I was careful as always, but,” Tony gestured vaguely, “I guess something must have failed. After that, Happy blew her cover and she left with nothing useful.”

“Isn’t he going to be fifteen this month? Timeline doesn’t add up,” Steve said.

“He was born one month early.”

“Oh. Forget I said anything.”

“So, Peter doesn’t know he’s your son? What about his parents? Or, well, mother,” Clint asked, trying to make the situation clear.

“He doesn’t.” Tony’s eyes widened once the words left his mouth. “At least I hope he doesn’t. That would make this whole situation lot more awkward.”

“Peter doesn’t,” Steve assured. “He didn’t know who you were until I told him. You probably didn’t introduce yourself when you two met. I can’t speak for other Parkers, though.”

Tony was about to say something in that overexaggerated outrage of his, but Rhodey cut him off once again. “Now with that out of the way, would you care to elaborate on that _‘I think I traumatized him’_ comment? Because I think it’s important to know so we know how to proceed about this whole situation.” Whatever it was, Rhodey hoped it wasn’t too bad and the kid wouldn’t have nightmares for months to follow.

Tony was stared down by everybody. Hell, he felt like even Friday was staring him down!

“Okay, but in my defense, I wasn’t aware of the circumstances back then.”

“Spill.”

“As you know, he ate nothing yesterday.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, after I left Barnes I went to his room for a little chat.”

“Oh no.”

“Shh! Let him speak.”

“And I _might have_ threatened his friends’ lives to ensure his compliance and also _might have_ thrown and then shoved a gun in his hands and tell him to shoot me if he wants it to end.” Tony didn’t meet anyone’s eyes. The ceiling looked pretty interesting in his opinion. “And I _might have_ taken it a step further _and_ grabbed his hand _and_ pointed the gun at myself… and made him pull the trigger. I’m not saying I did any of those things. Just that I might have.”

“Jesus Christ, that kid’s gotta be messed up after that.”

“And I thought what I did was bad.”

“Tones, that was dangerous!”

“It was unloaded, and the safety was on!” Tony defended himself. “I think it was pretty obvious that it was only pretend. We don’t hurt kids! Besides, he didn’t want to do it. He held the gun like it was about to explode. Do you have any idea how many people wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger if given the chance?”

Clint frowned. “That doesn’t make it better! It might be obvious to you, but the kid’s never been in this kind of environment before. To him it wasn’t obvious, he probably thought you were serious.”

“But hey, we can give him that amnesia thingy and everything will be fine!” Tony proposed.

“No, we cannot,” Natasha shook her head.

“And why is that?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because he’s too young for that. It could even kill him. Which you _would have known_ if you _read the paper in the box.”_

Okay, that’s one plan out of the window. “He likes Friday, and she likes him. Maybe we can use her as a therapy dog?” Tony offered. “Why are you all focusing on this all of the sudden?”

“Tony’s right, we have more important questions to discuss. Like if or when we’re going to tell him.”

Upon Steve’s suggestions, the team spent almost two hours debating pros and cons of telling Peter, going through many possible scenarios and the danger the knowledge posed to Peter. There was also question of Tony’s enemies. Many knew not to mess with him. But every so often, someone got cocky. That, of course, lead to their deaths.

The Black Order was completely wiped out, Ten Rings as well, Hydra’s been driven out of New York, but one could never be too careful with them. Bucky subconsciously held his metal arm while discussing them. There were several small groups and gangs that were not posing any threat to any of them. They knew to stay out of Tony’s way if they wanted to stay in business. 

At last, something that resembled a plan was born, with Clint as main coordinator and Friday one of key players. Step one: gain Peter’s trust and make themselves look as non-threatening as possible. Tony had to take responsibility and apologize for what he did earlier. If the time was right, Tony would tell him about his true parentage. Clint assured Tony that he would feel it when the right time comes.

The whole plan after that was based on Peter’s reaction. The plan will be put to motion today when the dinner time comes.

The meeting ended with Clint walking over to Tony, telling him all about the joys of fatherhood, Tony objecting that teenagers were difficult to deal with and Clint countering with telling him that at least he didn’t have to change the diapers.

“And your clothes.”

“What about them?”

“You’ve got to change your attire! You need to look the part. I think you could fit in some of mine—”

“Not a chance.”

The banter went back and forth until Natasha pointed out the time. If they wanted to be done with preparations with time to spare, they needed to move.

Bucky stared at the table, nodding to himself. There was a show on TV similar to this that he, Sam and Clint used to watch for some reason. “Tony Stark… you are the father.”

“Don’t you mean Stank?” Rhodey teased.

“Honeybear, I’ll kill you.”

Clint raised his hand. “I call dibs on the role of main uncle!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a blast was the last chapter! You guys are amazing! If happiness could make people float, I would be in space already. If it could make things bloom, the whole house would look like a jungle. I went to sleep with my cheeks hurting because I kept smiling for the whole time. I'm so thankful for every single one of you. 
> 
> Anyway, stage one of this fic is complete. You can only guess what lies ahead. And to give you a little teaser for next chapter…
> 
> How do you guys like awkward dinners?


	11. Chapter 11

Steve’s arrival signaled it was dinner time, but Peter couldn’t help but notice the lack of plate in his hands. The little calmness he managed to regain since morning was flung out of the window.

“Come on, dinner’s ready,” Steve nodded to the hallway behind him. “You’re eating with us.” He watched as Peter slightly pulled himself away.

“Uh, if this is about yesterday, the-then I won’t do that again. I’ll eat, I promise.”

Steve let out soundless sigh. Of course, Peter would be fearful after such an experience. How does one coax a child into coming and without possibly making everything worse?

“No, no, it’s got nothing to do with that. We just thought you would like to get away from the same four walls for a little while. So, what do you say?”

Peter felt like he had no choice in the matter, despite Steve giving him friendly smile. He got up from the chair and awkwardly walked to the man. He was half-expecting a pair of handcuffs would be snapped on his wrists. The bruise on his wrist he caused to himself began to fade, along with the rest. To Peter’s surprise, Steve walked out, motioning for him to follow.

The place was huge. Peter kept glancing around and rubbing the hem of his shirt between his fingers; an old habit he thought he outgrew already. There was no use in trying to escape from here, he would just get lost and make everything worse. Not to mention his friends’ lives were on the line. He’ll have to endure it. For them.

Steve’s voice broke Peter from his thoughts. “The doctor said if the cut on your forehead heals nicely, we can replace the bandage with one of those big, sticky band aids. We can check that after the dinner, what do you say? No more whole roll wrapped around your head.”

Peter’s stomach flipped. Not because he was glad the bandage will be gone, he got used to the feeling and didn’t know it was there most of the time. No, it was because in order to change it, they would have to get close. He didn’t have a problem with people getting close until today.

“Y-yeah, okay.” Because what else he could say?

The way Peter shifted in discomfort didn’t escape Steve’s eye. He honestly felt bad.

Giant space stretched in front of the two. The whole floor was bigger than Peter’s apartment! And there were actually several floors of this? Yeah, the escape was definitely impossible. People he’s never seen were sitting on nearby couches, stopping their debate once they noticed their presence. He also saw Natasha, Rhodey and Tony, now in casual outfit as well, a non-threatening one, milling around in the kitchen. On instinct, Peter stiffed.

“Hello, Peter,” one of the men stood up and walked towards him. Peter had to suppress the urge to take a step back. He felt like he knew that voice from somewhere. “How’s your shoulder feeling?”

It clicked together. The remark helped to jog his memory. “You were in the apartment,” Peter whispered, this time actually taking a step back. The voice wasn’t distorted by mask, but there was no denying it. This was the man that put him to sleep.

Clint momentarily froze but didn’t let it show. He wasn’t expecting Peter to remember it that easily. “I was. Sorry about that, you weren’t supposed to be awake for that,” he said sheepishly. He didn’t let him to deter that. “So, shoulder. Is it good? You didn’t aggravate it during that fall, did you?”

Peter was confused at the concern radiating from the man’s eyes. Because… why? It made no sense. “Uh, no? It… healed.”

“Good. I’m Clint, by the way.”

“I’m Peter,” he replied without thinking. “But I guess you know that.” Stupid manners.

Clint laughed. “Yes. I know it sounds a bit scary.”

 _Yeah, no shit_ was what flashed through Peter’s mind.

“That’s Bucky, by the way,” he pointed to the man with metal arm in an attempt to steer the conversation in different direction. Clint leaned in closer, lowering his voice. “I know he looks scary, but he’s actually a big softie. You don’t have that from me, though.”

Peter was unsure how to reply to that, so he just offered curt nod. He couldn’t help himself; his eyes shifted to Bucky curiously – specifically the arm. It moved like normal, flesh one. He wanted to get closer look on the mechanism behind it, but just walking up to the man and observe would be rude. And he remembered his position.

Tony never took his eyes of the boy. Wow, this kid was really his son. Whole living, breathing being. He’d never imagined himself in the role of a father for very obvious reason of fear of turning out exactly like his own father. Maybe one day, with Pepper… And yet he still somehow managed to do just that without knowing.

First time Tony held a gun, he was five. First time he shot out of one was when he was six and was forced to shoot the first person at eleven. He wasn’t very affected since he grew up in this environment, to him, it was natural. A second nature, like breathing. But Peter grew up leading different lifestyle.

He was still unsure of what to do. Should he really tell him? Maybe he could just… observe from afar? He already messed up once, he didn’t want to repeat that. But he needed to make this right. Somehow.

“Okay, everybody sit down. Dinner’s ready,” Rhodey said as he put last pot on the table. Friday that was taking a nap on her bed in the corner perked up at the word ‘dinner’. She walked over to the table and sat on the floor next to where Peter was seated.

Some of the tension fell from the boy’s shoulders, a thing noticeable to everybody in the room. A plate was placed in front of Peter. “Thank you.” When others began to eat, one of Peter’s hands reached for the spoon, the other one disappeared under the table and petted the furry head.

“Uhm, this is so good,” Clint all but moaned, “I mean, I love takeout too, but man, I missed your cooking.”

Natasha noticed Peter throwing glances at her, as if he wanted to say something. “Something on your mind?” she asked casually.

Peter’s grip on the spoon tightened. “I just wanted to say sorry. For tasing you.” He could have asked Steve to rely the apology to her, but he preferred to do it in person. Even though she was scaring him. “You too,” he glanced at Rhodey, then lowered his gaze to the plate.

“All forgiven and forgotten,” she replied with a hint of a smile that turned into a smirk addressed to Tony when she was sure Peter wasn’t looking. _See? Told you,_ it said. “I’m sorry too. I should’ve caught you. I mean before you fell,” she added when Peter’s lips pressed into thin line.

Nobody anticipated the atmosphere to be so thick you could cut it with a knife. The silence was suffocating. Bucky was the first to break it.

“I took out the trash.”

The _looks_ everybody sent him. They all understood the implication. But Peter…

The silence was becoming unbearable for Peter. So, when they all looked at the other man - that he was pretty sure was in his apartment too - he felt like they were waiting for some form of reaction from him. He needed to say something. “That’s nice. I try to help Mrs. Davis with cleaning too, so she doesn’t have that much work to do when she comes over.” Really, was it that unusual for that man to help with housework to grant such reaction?

To their relief, the implication went right over his head.

“That’s very nice of you,” Bucky said, and silence overtook the room once again.

Steve cleared his throat, throwing a look at Tony.

_“Your turn. Apologize.”_

_“No. Not now, I’m not ready!”_

“I believe Tony wanted to say something to you, Peter,” Steve said out loud.

_“You’re dead, Rogers.”_

Peter’s hand stilled under the table. Friday left him and it felt like betrayal. He threw tentative glances at the man. It seemed like forever and few minutes ago at the same time since the whole gun situation. Before today, he only saw those on TV or when police officers walked by on the street. Today he was forced to hold one.

Tony took a deep breath. Better to get this over with and get rid of the guilty feeling that was present since he learned the news. “Right, uhm. I’m sorry for forcing you into uncomfortable situation earlier today. I went overboard, forgetting that you are just a child. I… didn’t mean it. So, yeah. I’m really, truly sorry.” How bizarre. Tony Stark, the most powerful man in New York, giving a sincere apology to someone.

Peter was pretty sure someone up there hated him. What kind of horrible thing he’d done in past life to deserve this?

He got an apology.

He couldn’t believe his ears. Wait, he should probably reply. “It’s… okay?” Smooth, Parker. Smooth. From what he caught from his peripheral vision, nobody believed him either. Gosh, is it too much to ask for earth to split open and swallow him whole? Friday returned, dropped something on his lap and looked up at him.

Peter looked at her, then on the thing she brought. It was some weird square made out of soft fabric, with stuffed smiling monkey head in the middle. Something you would find in baby’s crib.

“That’s one of her favorites,” Rhodey commented.

Tony noticed that the kid looked like he would love to bolt out of here. He threw helpless glances at the team.

Cue Clint to the rescue. “So, Peter, what do you like to do? I assume science?” He asked follow-up questions about robotics club and all the parts in the box next to his desk.

Peter got to explain his little projects – keeping his answers as short as he could, which went against his nature – but could tell that the adults present had almost no idea what he’s been taking about.

That was until Tony spoke up, advising use of different circuit board that operated on higher frequency. “Come on, I own tech company. You can’t expect me to not know anything about it.”

“He spends every second of his free time holed up in his lab. Sometimes we have to literally drag him out of there in entourage of protests,” Rhodey teased.

“Ouch, Honeybear. Ouch.”

Clint shot Tony a look, telling him now was his chance. So, Tony talked, asked, dragging Peter into a conversation. From what others observed and told him, the kid was actually a chatterbox. It was painfully obvious he was holding himself back.

But Tony was impressed. Even from those short answers, it was clear Peter was smart. There weren’t many people capable of keeping up with him in this field. Yet the kid managed that without breaking a sweat. Warm feeling began to spread through his chest, growing like a tree from tiny seed. Was that… pride? Yeah, it could be. It was obvious from who the kid got the brains.

“Nerds,” Clint drawled as he began to collect the dishes, along with others.

Peter looked around, realizing the dinner was over. He put his dished on a pile. “Can—" he cut himself off and began anew. “Do you need help with the dishes?” he asked. Peter always washed the dishes after himself. Who knows what kind of life would bloom his sink if he let it all to Mrs. Davis, and he always helped with cleaning when he still lived with Ben and May. One of the perks of mostly living alone, Peter assumed, was that you learn how to take care of yourself.

“It’s okay, you carry on… about that techy stuff you were talking about,” Clint took the dishes and walked to the kitchen. He dumped the dishes into the sink as pots were loaded into dishwasher. Could they have somebody to clean after them? Yes, they could. But dining and then cleaning together became a form of bonding activity for them.

They observed the two from the kitchen.

“They really are father and son,” Bucky said. The similarities were undeniable.

“You can’t deny that,” Steve replied while he dried his hands.

Natasha leaned forward on the counter. “But Peter’s still nervous. This battle is not over.” She paused. “Do my eyes deceive me, or am I seeing Tony smiling?” Her eyes were, indeed, not deceiving her. Tony was smiling in approval at Peter.

“It’s working,” Clint stage whispered. “He’s transforming. Do you think I should try again to persuade him to look the part? I think my chances have increased.”

“Are you really sure about this?”

“Yeah, yeah, just go!”

Tony found himself in front of Peter’s door. Okay. He could do this. He prepared an actual apology speech this time. He glanced at the things he was holding. He was assured that would help as well. He took a deep breath and unlocked the door.

He found Peter sitting on the bed, a bandage already changed from when Steve went to drop him off. He watched as Peter shifted in discomfort, clutching the blanket. Okay, Stark, just like you practiced.

“Hi, Peter,” he plastered a smile on his face, inwardly wincing on how strained he sounded.

“Hi?” Peter replied, unsure of what to make of him.

And just like that, everything he wanted to say sizzled out of his head. _Shit!_ The silence dragged on and he realized he had to say something, fast.

“I’ve brought you something,” he said and placed the things he was holding on the table.

“Thank you,” Peter said, but it came out more like a question.

Another beat of silence. “The dinner was… enjoyable,” Tony said, shifting on his feet.

“Yeah.”

Awkward tension filled the room, neither of them knowing what to do. Yeah, they’re not going to make more progress today.

“Okay. I’m… going then.”

Peter got up after Tony left, looking at the table. In front of him laid a plate with cookies and a glass of milk. Warm milk. What was he, a baby?

Only one thought was present in his head.

“What the hell?”

When Tony arrived back to others, he made a show to place his hand on the wall for support.

“How did it go?” Rhodey asked. But before Tony could open his mouth, Pepper's voice came from behind him.

“Hey, sorry I’m late. I got held up at work and the traffic was terrible,” she walked to Tony, pressing quick kiss on his cheek. “Anything interesting happened today? I saw the meeting was called.”

Oh shit. He forgot to tell Pepper.

“Well…” He spilled. He just hoped that…

“Anthony Edward Stark!” Oh no. Here comes the scolding of his life. “You did _what!?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I randomly reread one of the chapters and found a mistake (it's fixed now). Whoops. English is my second language (or third? Does it count as third if you kinda picked up another language by default since birth because it’s so similar to your own? Eh, I’m gonna say English is my second.) So, if you see a mistake that slipped past editing, sorry. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this. And don’t forget to drink water. (and maybe leave a comment. I love those...)


	12. Chapter 12

There was a sound. Strange sound. Like knocking but… through water. Peter buried most his face in the pillow without opening his eyes.

“Peter, wake up.”

Peter made a sound in the back of his throat and hid his whole face to escape the noise and light.

“Come on, wake up. Breakfast is on the table.”

“No.” Peter’s protests were muffled by the pillow. “Too early.” There was silence and Peter thought he made Steve leave, already drifting back to sleep.

“You leave me no choice then. Friday.”

The mattress dipped in several places around the teen and wet nose pressed against his neck, nudging Peter’s face up. Few licks had the desired effect. Peter attempted to hide under the blanket. Friday didn’t let him and successfully managed to roll him off the bed.

“Okay, okay. I’m up. I’m up,” Peter pushed himself upwards after his sleepy pleas were no help to stop Friday. He had to admit, being woken up like this wasn’t so bad. Well, except the fall. But that didn’t erase the usual crankiness after waking up or the question why he was woken up so early in the morning. And according to his bleary eyes and biological clock, it was early.

“Mornin’ Mr. Rogers,” Peter greeted the man, wondering how he could be awake at this time. That should be illegal in his humble opinion. Friday jumped off the bed and began to pull Peter’s pant leg. “Yeah, I know,” he sighed while getting up.

“She really likes you. That doesn’t happen very often, you should be honored,” Steve joked, but it was true. It was probably because there were many people with bad intentions in the business and dogs are known to sense bad people, so…

Peter hummed. “I should get changed.”

“No need. We eat breakfast in pajamas on some days.”

Peter didn’t need to be told twice. Maybe he could go back to sleep after breakfast. “Why aren’t you in yours?”

“I went for a run with her.” Steve almost let out a laugh at the face Peter was making at him, his eyes barely opened. _Why would you do something like that so early?_ “Then I took a shower and made breakfast.”

“At what time did you wake up?”

“Around five. Early bird gets the worm.”

“And early worm gets eaten. Good morning,” Peter greeted other occupants when they entered the room, relieved that everybody was indeed in their pajamas. Clint and Bucky were already eating, choking on the food at Peter’s comment.

A woman that looked familiar was sitting next to Natasha at the counter, both of them with mugs in their hands. The familiar woman was looking him up and down, giving him small smile. Without thinking, Peter gave her a tiny one as well while he was blinking his eyes to get rid of some of the blurriness and _holy shit, was that Pepper Potts?_

“Wow. Someone’s not a morning person, huh?” Clint asked.

“There was a reason why I took afternoon courses.”

“Fair.”

“And here comes another not morning person,” Bucky said as very sleepy Tony Stark walked into the room, looking like he just rolled out of the bed.

Tony shot the man nasty look. “Don’t talk to me unless you have coffee.” A mug was pressed into his hands. “You’re a lifesaver, Pep,” he kissed her cheek.

“I know. You should be glad that I’m even giving you one.”

Tony froze at her tone. “I’m sorry. Please, don’t yell at me again,” he rushed out, almost curling in on himself.

So, Peter’s eyes were not deceiving him. It _was_ Pepper Pots, CEO of SI, which stood for… Stark Industries. A company that used to make weapons and now is focusing on green energy, technological and some medical research among other things. The products were always high quality.

The man’s last name was Stark. He said he owned tech company. Peter’s tired brain connected the dots. He wondered if Ms. Potts knew what kind of people she’s hanging out with. But given his presence here, she probably did. By the looks of it, the two were close.

Getting an internship at SI was like a dream for college students. Oh. Well, it looks like Peter will have to look for work opportunities elsewhere once he’s done with high school… and all of this mess.

If he was more awake, he would definitely freak out. At this point, a purple polar bear riding unicycle while juggling chainsaws could make an appearance and he wouldn’t care less. He just wanted to _sleep!_

“They really look alike, don’t they?”

“The resemblance is uncanny,” Pepper replied, not taking her eyes off of her fiancé and the boy. Peter’s hair stood in every direction, rivaling Tony’s bedhead. He basically looked like the man’s mini-me. They even moved in similar fashion and synchronized their yawns. Her mind wandered back to yesterday’s conversation… after the yell-down of the century and Tony looking on the ground in shame.

“So, you have a child. And you knew…”

“Since this morning.”

There were quite a handful claims that Tony was a father to some child. The reason was mostly money. The claims were dismissed with quick DNA test, but Tony even double-checked this one and it still came out positive. With Tony’s past, she knew there was a possibility of a child. Pepper accepted that, along with everything about Tony.

Tony told her everything from the beginning, even told her how smart the kid was. And after another round of deserved scolding for what he did, Pepper made up her mind. “I want to meet him.” And that’s way pajama breakfast day was moved from Saturday to this morning.

“An apple doesn’t fall far away from the tree. He looks like a good kid.”

“He is,” Natasha nodded. “But stubborn too. He made up his mind about escaping on first day and went through with it. Twice.”

Pepper chuckled. “Yeah, that’s definitely Tony’s trait.” A conversation at the table caught her attention.

“I don’t understand how you wake up for school then.”

“A student in bed will remain in bed until acted upon by a large enough panic. Newton’s lesser known fourth law. So, yeah. The realization of being late for school kinda makes me move,” Peter mumbled, resting his head on his hand. What would happen if he let his head bang on the table and fell asleep right here?

“Coffee is the key to wake up properly.”

“Have you seen yourself in the mirror?” And he just insulted the man that threatened him. Again, he didn’t care.

“Don’t get snarky with me. And you’re the one to talk. I’m pretty sure your hair defies the laws of gravity.”

Pepper glanced at the time. She had meeting at ten and if she wanted to make it on time, she needed to move. She would love to watch the interaction of the two to get more detailed picture of how they interact.

Will this situation make Tony overcome his fears?

Peter was deep in thought. He tried to think about what happened at the dinner, but fell asleep after he ate the cookies, the stress catching up to him. He thought it was only one-time thing, as a part of the apology. That was until it repeated at breakfast and lunch. No matter how much he thought about it, Peter couldn’t find a reason for them to do this.

From the day he woke up in that lake house, there was a routine. Routine was safe and now the routine was gone. One moment he’s mostly left alone, the other one they talk to him like Peter wasn’t a hostage held here against his will.

He couldn’t wrap his head around why they were being nice so much to him all of a sudden. Was it some form of manipulation? Mind games? His random internet knowledge supplied the words Stockholm syndrome.

But on the other side, they _were_ relatively nice to him from the beginning. He got food regularly, had privacy, was left unrestrained and even provided with entertainment, not to mention that aside from the threats and being without dinner one time, there were no repercussions for his failed escape attempts. Peter was pretty sure that this is not how hostages were normally treated.

Two knocks on the door made his head turn. Both Steve and Natasha knocked three times. Who was this?

Tony stood in the doorway, watching as the kid watched him, still wary, but not cowering in fear anymore. He still remained unsure whether he should tell him about their connection or not. Stark men were made of iron and Tony felt like he was at full capacity with people he let close.

“We’re going on a little field trip,” Tony said, an unvoiced order to follow him understood as Peter got up.

“Where to?”

“You’ll see.”

They walked through the maze of corridors until they reached specific door. Tony entered the code, pushed it open and revealed his lab. If words were no good…

“Woah.”

Tony watched as Peter looked around the space with awe written all over his face. Understandable, since school labs were nothing compared to this one. All kinds of the latest equipment, some modified by the man himself were placed around the room, and that were only the visible ones. The drawers hid some gems as well.

“Pretty cool, huh?”

“Yeah,” Peter breathed out. Still looking around, he took a step further into the lab.

Bingo!

“Come over here,” Tony motioned to one of the tables. He waited for the boy to approach and look at the lone object placed on top of the table.

Peter’s head tilted slightly to the side on its own before he looked up at Mr. Stark, not understanding why his taser was here. He thought it was tossed into recycle bin after he left the med-bay.

“You see, you got me thinking,” Tony began, pointing to the thing. “This is pretty good idea. Without the brush, the body of this specific toothbrush fits in the hand and can be nicely concealed. And you made it into a taser powerful enough to put someone of Steve’s size on the ground. True, there were several flaws from what I heard..”

Tony glanced at the boy, seeing that he waited for him to get to the point. “But if done correctly and all of the bugs removed, this could be manufactured and help innocent ladies protect themselves when walking the streets.”

“Yeah,” Peter said slowly. Something pulled at his T-shirt, making him yelp and jump. He saw a metallic arm retreating, followed by a series of beeps. “What?” A robot. How did it get behind him?

“No, Dum-E, leave the kid alone. Go back to your corner. Just don’t make too much of a mess or I’ll turn you into scrap metal.” It was a threat Tony used often, but never went through with it. The robot beeped again. “I don’t care! Go!”

Peter watched as the robot left. What did he just witness?

“So, what do you say?” Tony resumed speaking as if nothing happened. “Do you want to try and redo it?”

Peter was skeptic. “Are you sure you just don’t want to use it as a weapon for your illegal activities?”

“Did you forget I own a tech company? That is legit business. I might do some questionable things on the side, but we don’t kill civilians.” Unless they happen to stumble on something they weren’t supposed to see. “Doesn’t mean that other people out there share the same sentiment.”

Brief pause, then Tony continued. “You proved that you’re smart. I’m letting you play around in my ultra-modern lab and if something good can come out of it, then why not to go through with it?” New York can be dangerous. Everyone knew that.

Peter didn’t have to say anything before Tony knew he won. The gleam in kid’s eyes told him everything.

“Okay.”

“Great. Most of the needed tools are in the drawers there, the rest is over there, and some spare parts are in those cabinets,” he pointed to the wall lined with regals and storage spaces. “Just don’t test it on me when you’re done.” He retreated to his own table and pulled out his latest project.

For the following hours, Tony kept glancing at the kid when he was sure it was safe. Which was most of the time, since the boy looked like a toddler in candy shop. At some point, he relaxed and stopped hiding the utter delight on his face as he dug through the parts. It was enough to make Tony smile a little. He knew that what he had here was better than some scraps from old electronics Peter had at home.

His phone started ringing. “Love of my life?”

“Trying to sweettalk me into not being mad at you for what you did?”

“…maybe?”

Pepper let out amused huff. “I’m home. Everybody’s ready for dinner, so, up you get.”

The call ended. “She hung up on me,” Tony huffed. “Well, playtime’s over. We’ve been summoned.”

“Oh.”

Yeah, Tony could tell the kid was reluctant to leave and he didn’t blame him. If he was in such an amazing lab for the first time in his life, he wouldn’t want to leave either.

“I know, but if we’re late, Pepper will yell at me and she’s scary when she’s yelling. We can… come back here sometimes and you can finish it.”

The smile Peter gave him did something to Tony’s chest. “Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

The lab door closed behind them and they headed back upstairs. The ringtone from before could be heard again before Tony accepted the call.

“The dinner is ready and Pepper’s here, so get your ass over here. Also, you wouldn’t happen to have the kid with you, would you?”

Tony rolled his eyes and kept them pointed at the ceiling. “Actually, Rhodey, I would. Pep told me and we’re already on the way.”

Big, opened window on the wall in front of them caught Peter’s attention. It was closed when they went to the lab. For some reason, his sixth sense made him feel uneasy.

Sudden ray of light hit Peter’s eyes. He tried to locate what could be the cause of the reflection. He spotted a person on the roof of the opposite building handling something long. “What?” he mumbled to himself. Mr. Stark, still on the phone and looking at the ceiling, didn’t seem to notice the person up there yet. The light reflected again. Peter recognized what was going on when the person took a stance.

That was gun. Very long gun. And it was aiming right at them through the opened window, tiny red dot appearing and disappearing on Tony’s chest. The man still didn’t notice.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter said, earning himself a glance. His sixth sense flared. “Mr. Stark, watch out!” Peter yelled and shoved the man out of the way.

A shot rang out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry not sorry for the cliffhanger. 
> 
> And now, I’ll proceed with asking myself every four hours whether it’s Tuesday yet. Bye~


	13. Chapter 13

“Mr. Stark, watch out!”

Tony was thrown off balance as something collided with his body. Landing on the ground, a bullet swished past his head. It took him a millisecond to realize what was going on.

“Tony? Tony! What’s happening?” came from the phone that slipped from his grasp. “We hear gunshot.”

Tony ignored his friends calls. His instincts kicked in, he was about to roll into safety… but he stopped himself. Because he wasn’t alone.

With one hand, Tony reached the phone and swiftly threw himself over his son’s upper body, shielding and dragging him away as another bullet buried into the floor above their heads, too close for Tony’s liking. With the shot, he felt Peter flinch. He also felt that he was trying to stand up.

“Come on, cooperate with me here a little, move! Head down, butt too,” he told Peter, who weakly nodded, got his arms under himself and began crawling to the same direction. Tony put the phone closer to his face. “We’ve got a shooter on the roof. We are on third floor.”

The bullets kept raining down on them, the kid flinching and yelping every time. The only thing protecting them was the angle between the shooter and the window. All they needed to do was to crawl a little further and they will be out of range. “That’s it, you’re doing great. Just like that. Keep it up,” he kept muttering words of encouragement.

Tony reached for the handle of nearby door. “Don’t stand up. Any higher and you get hit, crawl.” He saw Peter nod.

“We’re on our way.”

Tony didn’t bother to reply, instead he turned to the trembling boy that huddled himself in the corner once they got to safety. He needed to make a choice. Stay and protect, or leave and protect. If he stayed, he could essentially turn into sitting duck, putting them both in danger. If he left, that would take the attention of the attacker solely on him. Both of those could easily backfire, he was aware.

Tony made the decision.

“Okay, listen up. You stay here and don’t leave until some of us come get you.” For all he knew, there could be more people going after him, but Peter didn’t need to know that. “The windows are bulletproof but stay away from them.” As if to prove the point, a bullet hit the window, leaving a spiderweb crack when Tony crawled on all fours towards nearby table and pulled a gun from underneath it.

Peter’s heart hammered in his ribcage, picking up the speed even more when he saw the man move back towards the door. “Wait, you can’t go back there, that’s dangerous!” _Straight up insane. A death wish,_ he wanted to add.

“This is not the first time I’ve been shot at, kid. Stay in that corner and _don’t. Move,”_ Tony said, got into low crouch and sprinted out of the room, shutting the door behind him with so much force Peter couldn’t help but flinch again. The gun from outside fired shot after shot. Peter felt sick. The only comfort was that he heard the sound of running after the crack silenced.

But he was alone.

Peter curled into as small ball as he could, like he was trying to become one with the wall. _It was safe here,_ he reminded himself. To his right was the wall with windows, to his left the wall with door. He looked around the room, noticing that this was some kind of storage room. There was a lone desk with a chair, metal drawers lining the wall opposite the two windows.

The commotion outside went on. He drew in shaky breath, the situation sinking in. Someone just tried to kill Mr. Stark. Someone shot at him. At _them! Both of them!_ Who knew if Peter would be the next target if the attacker succeeded.

His mind took him back in time when he and Ben used to crawl around the apartment like soldiers on their stomachs. Back then it was just a game. This was real.

More shots and then silence.

“Got him!” Clint called out, satisfied. With Natasha and Bucky on one side and Steve, Rhodey and Tony on the other, distracting the sniper, he managed to get a clear shot.

“Keep your eyes open, there could be more lurking around,” Natasha replied while she walked towards the spot where the body laid, her eyes scanning the area. Bucky watched her back, both of them assessing the situation. The assailant had nowhere to hide up here. He messed up from the beginning. A hole was drilled between his unseeing, half-lidded eyes. No need to check. He was dead. And he was most definitely an amateur.

Shouts came from below, signaling that Happy and his men were on the case already. They could leave the rest to them.

“Let’s head back inside.”

“Oh, Tony,” Pepper walked over to the man when he entered the dining room. “Are you okay? You’re—”

“Yeah, I’m fine, don’t worry,” he cut her off, giving her quick hug and kiss.

Happy was the last one to arrive. “What the hell was that?” he asked Tony.

“Someone wanted my head,” he shrugged like it was happening every other day.

Rhodey frowned. “How did the guy managed to shoot at you? I thought all the windows were bulletproof.”

“They are. One of the windows was opened for some reason. And unless the person set it up all beforehand and risked being spotted by someone, there had to be at least two.” They found one mole here recently. Maybe that’s what made others act. “Put the whole area on lockdown. Nobody enters or leaves.”

Happy took in all the information. “I’ll check the systems. If there are two, we will find the other one.” Taking into consideration that not many people had access to this part of the building, there were only so many people that could’ve opened that window.

“Go.”

Rhodey was the first one to speak. “That was a close one.”

Tony snorted. “Tell me about it. I was on the phone with you, distracted, and the next thing I know is that we’re being shot at. If the kid hadn’t pushed me out of the way—” he froze. He forgot. Shit. Others seemed to catch on too. “The kid!” Tony yelled, already rushing back to the room where he left Peter. He could tell the team was following.

“Please, tell me he’s alright,” Steve’s voice came from behind him.

“He was when I left him.”

Rare look of worry crossed Natasha. “Let’s hope it stayed that way.”

“Why did you leave him alone in the first place?!”

“To take the attention off him!”

 _Please, don’t let there be two, please, don’t let there be two…_ With the possibility of multiple attackers… the thought of the kid getting hurt made his chest feel weird. Especially if he would be the reason for that. The door hiding the boy came in view and Tony picked up the pace.

“Uh, Tones, wait. You have a bit of b—”

Tony ignored his best friend as he pushed the door open, scanning the room. Relived sigh escaped past his lips when his eyes landed on the boy, curled where Tony told him to be. “Thank God you’re okay.”

Peter’s head shot up, breath caught in his throat, but relaxed right after when Tony appeared in the doorway. Peter got up on his shaky feet, using the wall for support. Mr. Stark was alive. That was good. He didn’t think he would be able to live with the knowledge that another person died because of him. Yeah, the foster people and the police told him in wasn’t his fault, but he knew. Because it happened when they’d gone to pick him up from school, then to the mall, then to see the movie.

He watched the man step further into the room, throwing glances at him and at the crack in the glass. Yeah, Peter was okay. But…

“But you’re not!” Peter squeaked. The man gave him confused look. With shaky hands, Peter pointed to his shoulder. “You’re bleeding! Uh, we-we need to stop the bleeding. Okay. Uhm, a rag… or something. You have guns hidden around, so you should have first-aid kits hidden around too, right? And… water… maybe? God, I don’t know!”

Tony slid his gaze from the fretting boy that seemingly couldn’t decide whether he should step closer to him or ran out of the room for help to the shoulder the teen pointed out. There was a tiny rip on the sleeve, the fabric around the rip coated in red. Huh. He didn’t even feel that. When did that happen? Come to think of it, both Pepper and Rhodey were trying to tell him something. He moved his arm to get better look.

“Don’t move it!” Peter choked out and actually took a step closer. His back was facing the door now. He didn’t notice others peeking into the room. “Worry about yourself, not me!”

“I can do both. I’m good at multitasking,” Tony said without thinking. “It’s just a scratch. Look, it even stopped bleeding already. No need for a surgery,” he joked. He allowed Peter to lean in closer to inspect the wound. He expected the boy to calm down. He should have known better.

“Yeah, but you still could’ve died! I noticed this flash of light and there was someone on the roof and you were distracted and—”

Okay, he was most definitely a chatterbox. Tony didn’t think Peter ever said that much in his presence. Tony’s eyes darted between his distressed kid in front of him and the group watching them from the doorway.

“—and I’m so sorry I pushed you, but—”

Tony raised his arms, not sure what to do with them. Should he place them on Peter’s shoulder to stop his movement? Should he tap his face lightly to snap him out of it? Clint waved his hand to get his attention. The kid kept on rambling, not noticing Tony looking over his head.

“Hug him,” Clint mouthed. The movement of his lips was accompanied by overexaggerated air-hugging. “Hug him,” he mouthed again.

Tony shot him a glare. _No, we’re not there yet._ Others shot him one as well. _Do it!_ He was outnumbered.

 _“Here goes nothing,”_ the man thought and wrapped his arms around his son’s shoulders, pulling him close. Tony placed his chin on top of Peter’s head, one of his hands finding its way to the brown curls on the back of his head. The kid stiffened and fell silent. Tony took it as a chance to speak.

“I’m alive, see? You saved my life. I’m talking to you right now because you acted. You could’ve chosen to do nothing, yet you acted anyway,” Tony spoke softly.

Peter froze when Mr. Stark pulled him close, but his heartbeat was making him relax. When was the last time someone hugged him like this? Back when Ben and May were still alive? Yeah, that seemed about right. It was the fateful morning he left for school. His parents… weren’t very… affectionate people. At least not with him.

“I’m not mad that you shoved me,” Tony continued, “I’m glad that you did it. Otherwise, I would be in a—” he cut himself off. The kid didn’t need description of what could have been.

The last of the tension washed away from Peter’s body with deep exhale. He knew he shouldn’t do the next thing, but he couldn’t help himself. He knew it was supposed to be wrong, but it felt somehow right. Maybe it was just the stress taking over, who knew? Leaning into the hug, Peter wrapped his own arms around Tony’s torso. Sheesh, how desperate, how touch starved he was to accept any kind of physical affection from this man?

“I owe you my life. In return, you can ask for anything you want. I don’t like being indebted to people,” Tony offered. The hug felt nice. And somehow, it felt like this kid that was half-a-head shorter that the team’s shortest member belonged in his arms. He didn’t want to let go.

“Anything?” Peter asked in small voice.

“Except letting you go right now, of course.”

Oh. Well, it was worth a shot. If that wasn’t an option, he could get selfish. “Lab time tomorrow?”

Chuckle bubbled in Tony’s chest. “Really? You can ask for anything in the world and you ask for this? You’re an odd one, but okay. Lab time tomorrow.”

“Thank you.”

Geez, this kid. Tony didn’t notice when soft smile appeared on his face. He did, however, noticed that Pepper had her hand over her heart and soft look in her eyes. And then there were others, grinning at him like they were a bunch of preschoolers. Tony was sure that if Sam was here, he would be giving him shit-eating grin. Tony glared. Rhodey began to quietly usher them out of the room they wouldn’t startle Peter.

Tony blinked at him in gratitude and patted the teen’s shoulder twice. Peter understood the non-verbal gesture and let go at the same time as Tony did. He’d never admit it, but he missed the contact already. “Alright, the moment of sentiment is over. Let’s go eat, I’m starving.” He ignored the look Pepper threw at him over her shoulder.

Tony threw his arm over Peter’s shoulders, pleased that the teen didn’t flinch or froze, and led him out of the room. That was progress.

Peter tripped a little upon seeing the people in the hallway. They definitely heard the whole exchange. Including his rambling. His cheeks dusted pink in embarrassment. Luckily, nobody teased him for it.

“What you did was brave,” Steve praised as the group walked toward the dining room.

Peter lowered his head shily, tiny smile pulling on his lips as Tony squeezed his shoulder again. He was just doing the right thing.

The adrenaline wore off. And then it hit him. He could have died. _He_ could have _died!_ _Holy shit, that was crazy!_ He needed to sit down, before he- Yeah, with no adrenaline in his body anymore, his knees buckled and he began to fall forward.

Under different circumstances, Peter would find it funny that one moment everything’s normal and the next he’s falling down like a plank, the cheerful chatter around him abruptly changing into panicked calling of his name before he could faceplant into the ground and darkness took him.

Okay, maybe he did find the abrupt chaos a little bit funny, but nobody would ever know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, no serious injury in this one, but who’s saying that something won’t come up in the future? ;)
> 
> Every single one of you is appreciated! I love you guys so much!


	14. Chapter 14

“What are you reading?” Clint asked while he yanked the tablet from Tony’s hands.

It was few minutes past eleven. Peter was taken to his room an hour and half ago, with Friday’s usual entourage, where a small surprise was waiting for him. When the boy saw the doggy door installed to his room, he didn’t understand at first, but, though he tried to hide it, his face lit up when Tony explained that since Friday liked him, she could come and visit him any time she felt like it.

And since Tony returned, he hadn’t let go of the tablet.

“Is,” Clint looked from the screen to the very annoyed man with confused expression, “is this Wiki-How?” Clint plopped on the couch between Bucky and Steve. The two leaned in to see the screen as well. “How to be a good parent. How to deal with teenagers as a single parent. How to bond with your teenage son,” he read out loud as he switched between the open tabs. “Really? You’re reading Wiki-How articles on how to be a parent when you could just ask me? A master in the field?”

“He’s that desperate,” Natasha teased.

Tony retrieved the tablet with a scoff and returned to his seat.

“Does this mean we’re keeping him?” Bucky’s head tilted slightly to the side. All eyes turned to Tony.

“You’re making it sound like he’s stray cat or something.” Tony ran his hand through his hair. “I- yes. Or maybe? I don’t know,” he sighed in frustration. “I mean, have you seen him? Despite what I did to him, he saved my life and then practically melted into the hug.”

“And then collapsed.”

“And almost have us a heart attack.”

Pepper sat down next to him, placing her hand on his knee. Tony placed his own hand over hers. “Take a deep breath. It will be all right, we’ll figure it out.” She gave her fiancé kind smile. The way he behaved around the boy… it suited him when he showed his soft side.

“Today, we came this close to death,” Tony raised his other hand, fingers barely touching for emphasis. “I can’t explain, but the thought of something happening to him creates this… _weird_ feeling in my chest.”

“That’s worry. Parental worry,” Clint supplied.

“Can you make it go away?”

“Nope.”

_Damn._ “He could ask for anything and he asked for lab time! Like, come on! I just,” Tony gestured vaguely with his hands before resting his back against the couch. “He doesn’t have a bad bone in his body. He’s too kind and innocent for this world. _Our_ world. You know how things work here.”

“So, you’re still deciding whether to tell him or not?” Rhodey asked.

“I don’t know,” Tony admitted. “I feel like I could protect him the best and put him in danger the most at the same time. And from the way he reacted around guns so far, which was my fault, I admit, self-defense is out of the way.” His head met the back of the couch. This was a long day. Maybe he’ll go to bed in reasonable time today.

“Actually,” Bucky began hesitantly, turning all the attention on him. “I might have just the idea,” he finished with knowing smile.

“Here.”

Peter caught a bundle of clothes, looking at Steve with confused eyes.

“Put it on and come out when you’re done,” he said and closed the door.

Peter stood in silence for a brief moment. “Do you know what this is about?” he asked Friday that was currently making her way towards him, sniffing the bundle. She gave him her perfectly mastered head-tilt of confusion. “I guess that means no.”

To be honest, he was expecting Mr. Stark to come and take him to the lab. But... why was he given gym clothes? That made no sense.

Wait! Peter knew he’d said he’ll take up running after this is all over, now he really hoped they won’t make him. No, that wouldn’t make any sense either; they had no idea he said that. He sighed. “Well, better not to keep him waiting.” Peter reached for the bottom of his shirt to pull it over his head before he stopped and turned to the dog watching him. “Do you mind?” Friday blinked at him. “Okay,” Peter gathered the clothes and went to the bathroom.

After he changed, Steve led him to vast room lined with various equipment. Peter recognized the purpose of the room immediately.

No.

_No._

“No, not the gym,” his voice was on the edge of whine. Why? This was torture. What did he do to deserve this? That was his least favorite subject in school, mostly because he wasn’t the most athletic of his classmates, but also because of…

“What’s wrong with gym?” Bucky walked over, dressed for exercise as well.

“Please, tell me we won’t be playing dodgeball.” The game on its own wasn’t that bad; but add Flash and his goons on the opposite team and you have a recipe for disaster.

Bucky laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “No, no dodgeball. The events from yesterday got us thinking, and we reached a conclusion that you could benefit from some self-defense lessons,” he explained as he led the teen further into the open space. “It’s a useful skill to have.”

And there goes another thing on the list of weirdness of Peter’s whole predicament. He was pretty sure you don’t teach your hostages how to fight. But… yeah, Peter’s not the most threatening or dangerous individual over here – with or without the skills to defend himself. No matter how much he thought, he couldn’t wrap his head around it.

And boy, did he think about everything yesterday. The last thing he remembered was that the floor was approaching quite fast towards his face and the next thing he knew, he found himself lying on the couch with worried faces hovering over him, silently watching his every move.

_“Uhm?” he asked, which seemed to snap the adults out of their state._

_“Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself? You didn’t bang your head, did you? I didn’t notice if you did, I was too busy catching you,” Mr. Stark talked without taking a break for breathing._

They had dinner after that, everyone constantly watched him like he was some fragile thing that was about to break, asked him if he was feeling alright and if he needed anything. His glass was refilled right after Peter set it down. It almost felt like they were… _babying him,_ like a bunch of mother hens. Ms. Potts even _petted his hair_ and gave him kind smile. Peter liked that gesture if he was being honest. She even shooed away a man that was studying him with narrowed eyes. Happy, she called him.

In Peter’s opinion, the man didn’t live up to his name.

But one thought crossed his mind once he was alone. What if he wasn’t developing Stockholm syndrome, but _they_ were developing _the opposite_ of Stockholm syndrome. He knew there was a name for that but couldn’t remember.

Would that logically explain some things? Perhaps. If that was the case, his chances of being set free increased. But what did he do to gain their sympathy?

Maybe Peter should just give up on trying to make sense of things and stop thinking altogether.

“Al-right?” Peter drawled, pretty sure his face will remain twisted with confusion once he’ll be out of here.

“All right!” Bucky exclaimed, ignoring Peter’s confusion. “First, warm-up.”

Peter found it awkward, exercising with the two men, but went along with it. It wasn’t as bad as his classes. It actually went easier when he was told how to do it correctly. After that, they went over some basic stances and moves. Peter watched as Bucky and Steve demonstrated short fight, looking like they were dancing.

_“Okay, I get it, I’m weak. No need to flex on me like that,”_ Peter thought.

And then it came Peter’s turn to put the theory to practice.

And of course, Natasha chose that moment to walk in as well. “Okay, show me what you got.”

She was looking at him. Peter checked both his sides to make sure she wasn’t addressing one of the men in case they were standing behind him. There was no one. “Me?” he pointed to his chest.

“Who else?”

Yeah, not a chance. “No, thank you.”

“No what?”

“I’m not gonna fight you.”

Natasha took a step forward. “Why? Because I’m a woman?”

Peter’s brows furrowed. “No, because you’re scary!” Wasn’t that obvious? Natasha looked like she meant business and wouldn’t hold back. She could shake hands with MJ.

“You know, he’s got a point,” Steve chuckled.

“Then you’ll take his place,” Natasha shrugged and Steve’s smile froze.

“What?”

“You heard me. I didn’t get here just to walk back without some exercise. And you’ll put up better fight than a begginer. Barnes can handle him alone.”

Steve sighed as he walked towards her, head hung.

“Now watch. You can learn something from them.”

Peter gaped at the speed Natasha moved around. Yes, Steve had physical advantage, but Natasha was more agile and was successfully using his own strength against him. When it was Steve and Bucky, it was more strength against strength. “How can she move like that?”

Bucky shrugged. “Let’s get to our own practice, shall we?”

And that’s how was another half an hour spent. The two pairs were fighting, one more leniently, the other one more furiously. Yet Natasha somehow still managed to watch Peter’s moves and correcting his mistakes before Bucky could.

Tony had no idea what the hell he had walked into. Well, training, obviously, but he wasn’t expecting to see Peter with his arms wrapped around Barnes’ torso, straining to pick the man up for some reason. Natasha and Steve were sipping on cooled water in the corner, watching Peter’s efforts in amusement and giving occasional shout of encouragement.

“Put your back into it.”

“You can do it.”

Bucky glanced down with a chuckle. “You’re adorable.”

“Not. Adorable.” Peter, still straining, glanced up to give the man brief angry look, but judging by the widening of Bucky’s smile, he guessed he failed miserably.

“Like a puppy,” Bucky patted top of the boy’s head. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

“What are they doing?” Tony asked the resting duo, not taking his eyes off the scene.

“For extra motivation, Bucky offered Peter that he can take a closer look at his arm if he manages to pick him up. That’s another thing you two share – Peter has that look in his eyes when he’s curious about a piece of technology,” Steve said.

“They’ve been at it for several minutes already. Frankly, it’s fun to watch. He’s really determined,” Natasha nodded to herself with a smile.

Peter shifted his feet, planting them firmly on the mat. “Not! Adorable!” Grunting Peter put all of his remaining strength into the attempt. It was now or never. He felt Bucky’s weight shift, accompanied by surprised sound coming from his mouth. He did it!

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much time to celebrate before his strength ran out, and together with unbalanced Bucky toppled on the mat.

Panting, Peter turned himself on his stomach. “I’m okay.”

“Good job. You win,” Bucky sat up. “You know, Steve used to be like you when he was your age – like a twig with no real strength or muscle. 90-pound asthmatic. That can be rectified with some training once you hit that growth sprout.” Steve threw him dirty look. Bucky smirked at him.

“Asthma bros.”

“Wait, you’ve got asthma?” Bucky asked.

Peter waved his hand. “It’s been a while. I think it’s gone now.”

Bucky was sure others heard too, but he made mental note to remind Tony to get an emergency inhaler. Just in case. “Now, up you get. Your da—” the three threw him panicked looks, making him change the word in last moment, “y time for lab is here, I believe.” Bucky raised his arms in surrender at the looks he got. Crisis averted. Even if the sentence was wrong.

“Let me become one with this mat,” came Peter’s muffled response.

Natasha spoke loudly just enough for the two men next to her to hear. “Drama queen like his father.”

“You broke him!” Tony pointed to the teen with his whole hand, loud enough for everybody. “We were supposed to have fun time in lab! But I guess if you’re too tired…”

Clint mentioned this trick, but said it mostly worked on smaller kids. Looks like it worked on certain teenagers too. Peter seemed to only now notice his presence. He propped himself up on his forearms, looking eager.

“I think I caught second wind,” he said, still sounding a little winded.

“Good,” Tony clapped his hands together. “Go change. Steve, you’re relieved from cooking duty, I already ordered take-out for lunch. You have about twenty minutes before it arrives.”

With Peter’s decision from earlier, he decided not to think about how Mr. Stark knew his favorite Thai food. No, Peter decided to focus on assembling the parts in front of him. Almost done.

Tony grew more agitated by second. No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to reach that damned wire! His hand couldn’t fit through the opening, but… Peter’s hand could. Before he could raise his hand and call the kid over, Peter spoke.

“I’m done.” For emphasis, electric crack followed the statement.

“Great, I’ll take a look at it in a second. Could you come over here for a moment?” He waited for the boy to walk over, the taser left on the table. “Do you see that red wire?” Tony asked, pointing to the offending wire. Peter nodded. “I need to connect it to that part, but I can’t reach it. But you could.”

Peter accepted the offered tool from Tony’s hand and easily got the work done.

“Thanks, kiddo. Let’s take a look at that little invention of yours.” The kid really did have his brains. With proper tools, it actually looked decent. Tony pressed the button several times, proving that it also works. “Yeah, this is great! You’ve got bright future ahead of you.” Maybe he’ll let Peter help with the AI he was working on, the one that would offer the best security imaginable. Someone messed with security systems yesterday. Someone on the inside, as Happy said. Even if the person managed to make shambles of the biometric scans, sooner or later, the culprit will be caught and will regret the day they were born.

Peter tried to pretend to shrug off the praise but failed miserably. The whole situation held such domesticity, it put Tony at ease. It felt right.

And Clint’s words rang out in his mind. _“Go with the flow. If it feels right, do it.”_

“What?” Peter asked and Tony realized he’s been staring. The time felt right. But why was his heart hammering in his chest so much?

“I have to tell you something.”

“Okay?” Peter’s heart leaped with hope. Were they going to let him go?

Peter was looking at him expectantly with those innocent brown eyes, _Tony’s eyes,_ not suspecting there’s an equivalent of bomb about to be dropped on him. Tony took steadying breath and opened his mouth.

“I am your father.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom, another bomb dropped.
> 
> The opposite of Stockholm syndrome is called Lima syndrome and those Wiki-How articles are real. I had a good chuckle reading them, considering I'm not a single parent and I don't have teenage son either. Knowledge is fun. And I’ve got a surprise for you next week. See ya!

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: http://winter-turtle.tumblr.com


End file.
